


Bernabeu Hall

by lovinthelads



Series: Bernabeu Hall [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Bernabeu Hall, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 147,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovinthelads/pseuds/lovinthelads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU series loosely based on the events of Downton Abbey.  Raul is the patriarch of an English manor house.  He has just learned that his wife and eldest son went down with the Titanic.  Now his younger three sons, Iker Casillas, Sergio Ramos, and Cesc Fabregas have to re-think their futures as their cousin, Cristiano Ronaldo is now heir to the Bernabeu fortune.</p><p>More to come...</p><p>X</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bernabeu Hall (Chapters 1-10)

Chapter 1

April 1912 - Bernabeu Hall

The telegram arrived early in the morning. The house had not yet begun to stir when there was a knock on the front door. Thankfully, the butler, Carles, was awake and dressed. Opening the door, he gave the delivery boy the full weight of his glare as he handed over the telegram.

“For Lord Bernabeu, sir,” said the boy who Carles recognized as the son of the butcher.

Carles swiped the paper from his hand and dropped a coin into the boy’s hand. He resisted the urge to tell him off for arriving so early, but it must have been urgent. Carles did not like things that did not fit into the routine.

He laid the missive on a silver tray and carried it up the stairs. He hoped it was as urgent as it seemed, for his Lordship would be cranky to be roused.

He rapped sharply on the door three times.

“Come in.”

Carles pushed the door open and was relieved to see his Lordship was awake and reading in a chair by the bedside.

“Sorry to disturb you.”

“I couldn’t sleep, anyway,” Raul closed his book.

“A telegram for you, sir.”

“At this hour?” Raul accepted the telegram from the tray with a frown.

“Only just arrived,” Carles confirmed and took a deferential step back. He waited to be dismissed or given further orders.

Raul reached for his letter opener and slit the paper open. His eyes scanned across the paper. His face paled. “Dear god...”

Carles waited, but his interest was peaked.

Raul closed his eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath. “Carles, wake the boys. Have them meet me in the library.” Raul’s eyes met Carles’s. “The Titanic has sunk.”

* * * * 

Cesc opened an eye as there was an incessant tapping on his door. What ungodly hour was this?

“What?”

The maid, Fernando, stuck his blonde head in. “Terribly sorry to wake you, sir, but your father needs you in the library immediately.”

Cesc groaned. “This can’t wait for a decent hour?”

“I’m sorry, sir. He did say at once.” Fernando glided into the room and picked up Cesc’s dressing gown from the back of the chair.

Cesc sighed and shoved back the bedclothes. It wasn’t Fernando’s fault his father had summoned him. He trundled over and held out his arms so Fernando could slide the gown on him. He tied it at the waist and yawned.

In the corridor, Cesc met Iker, his older brother and second son to the Earl. Iker looked even less pleased to be awake than Cesc felt. Wordlessly, Cesc followed Iker down the stairs and made their way into their father’s library.

At once, Cesc realized it was very bad news indeed. “What is it, father?”

“Let’s wait for Sergio,” Raul said, though Cesc moved to his father, who looked to have aged then years over the night. Rather uncharacteristically, he pulled his youngest son to him, holding the sixteen year old tightly.

Iker’s face lined with worry and he wanted to join them.

The door opened again and Sergio emerged looking mutinous. “Someone better be dead.”

Cesc felt his father stiffen. “A lot of people are. The Titanic has sunk.”

“What?” Iker blurted. “But..but...it was supposed to be unsinkable!”

Sergio had gone pale, his arrogance drained. “I...”

“Are Mum and Xabi okay?” Cesc whimpered. Their beloved mother had taken the eldest son, Xabi, to America on the Titanic. They were in need of a rich heiress to help replenish the family fortunes.

“I don’t know,” Raul said honestly. “I’ve just had a telegram from New York, where the reports are sketchy. Many people have been rescued, but the lists of names is far from complete.”

Cesc whimpered again and buried his face in his father’s shoulder.

“But,” Raul squeezed him tightly, “we must think positively until we know for sure.” Even as he spoke, deep down, he felt the words false. He’d awoken this morning with a shot of panic through his heart. He knew they were lost.

“What can we do?” Iker asked as he sank into a chair.

“Nothing,” Raul said as he stroked Cesc’s back. “We just have to wait.”

“If Xabi’s dead, who’s the heir?” Sergio asked. It was the question on everyone’s mind, but not one that maybe should have been aired.

Raul shot him a look. “You very well know.”

Sergio sat down on the sofa. “So it’s to be Cristiano. Do we have to move out, then?”

“Xabi might be alive,” Cesc begged. “And Mummy...”

“I’m just saying if they’re dead, we have to face the reality that our family no longer has control of Bernabeu.” Sergio’s words were harsh and belligerent, but they were laced with a fear. A fear that had driven Xabi and their mother to book passage on the ill-fated Titanic. They were in a precarious position, all of them. All of their futures depended on Xabi’s ability to find a match and produce an heir.

Raul sighed. It was only true. In his father’s will he had stated explicitly stated that Raul’s eldest would inherit the title and what was left of the fortune, but that if Xabi did not wed and produce an heir by his 30th birthday, the title would pass to the son of his cousin, Luis.

“Nothing happens until I die,” Raul reminded them.

“But when you do,” Sergio said, “the three of us are penniless and homeless.”

 

Chapter 2

“Is it true?” Bojan peered out of the kitchen door at Carles who came down the stairs.

Carles looked troubled. “The Titanic sunk, yes.”

Bojan let out a whimper. “And Master Xabi and the Lady of the house?”

“No word.”

“Bojan!”

Bojan scampered back into the kitchen where the cook was loading a tray of tea cups and silverware. “The Lord and his sons will be wanting tea. This is no time for gossiping,” Andy, the cook, snapped.

“Sorry,” Bojan scurried about as he found the sugar bowl and milk pitcher. He ran to the ice box and found the milk. As he rushed back, nearly tipping the whole tray over, he asked, “Aren’t you worried?”

“It’s not our place to be worried,” Andy said brusquely, but Bojan could see the man was near tears at the news. “Where is Mesut?”

“He’s lighting the fires in the parlor,” reported Fernando as he stepped into the kitchen. He stole a biscuit off the tray behind Andy’s back, and Bojan cracked a smile.

“He needs to get this tea to the library.”

“I can take it,” Fernando said, concealing the biscuit in his pocket.

“Fine. get this tea upstairs. And can you see when they’ll be wanting breakfast?”

Fernando popped the biscuit in his mouth before lifting the heavy tray. He balanced it and began the slow trek up the stairs. It wasn’t the contents so much as the solid silver of the tray that weighed so much.

He finished the biscuit before entering the upstairs and checked his reflection in a mirror. No crumbs. He opened the door to the library with a practiced elbow, and then straightened up to carry the tray in.

Raul was sat at his desk, writing a letter, and Cesc and Iker were curled up on a sofa. Sergio was no where to be seen.

Raul looked up, “Oh, thank you Fernando. Sorry to get you up so early.”

“No problem sir. Will you be wanting breakfast at the usual hour?”

“I can’t eat anything,” Cesc whined. Iker held him and stroked his back. 

“You need to eat,” Raul said not unkindly. “We’ll eat at the usual time, thank you Fernando.”

Fernando nodded as he poured out the tea, deftly fixing three cups the way they liked them. Cesc with lots of milk and sugar. Iker with sugar, no milk. Raul with a little of both. He laid a biscuit on the saucer of each and doled them out.

“The boys will go upstairs shortly to dress,” Raul said as he accepted his cup.

Fernando nodded, knowing he needed to get upstairs quickly and be sure their clothes were laid out. Normally, no one came downstairs without begin dressed, and they would ring when they were ready to get up and get ready.

“Anything else, sir?”

“That’s all, Fernando, thank you.”

Fernando went to the door, and at the last moment, turned. “And...I’m sorry to hear the news...sir.”

Raul looked up.

“About...well, I hope they’re alright.”

With a warm smile, Raul nodded. “Thank you, Fernando.”

Fernando bowed and left. He scurried up the stairs. Shit. He needed to tell Mesut to finish the fires and help Bojan organize the breakfast trays.

“Mesut, I need help their lordships dress. Can you help finish the breakfast trays? They want breakfast at the normal time.”

“Sure,” Mesut said, standing and dusting off his apron. “How are they?”

“How would you be?” Fernando said as he dashed back out.

Mesut needed to finish one more fire. He looked at the clock and decided he had time to take care of it. The whole house was in edge this morning. Of course, the Lady and the young Lord weren’t really his family, but Mesut had been working at the house since he was fourteen. The Bernabeu family were his whole life. And they looked after him. They let him have a week to travel home when his grandmother was ill. They even helped pay for his train fare. They looked after him.

And now they were hurting. Mesut felt lost.

* * * *

Fernando set out Iker’s shirt and trousers, selecting a vest and looking for his black shoes, which were thankfully, already polished. He set out the socks and moved next door to Sergio’s room.

He was startled to find Sergio splayed out in his bed. “I didn’t ring for you.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Fernando said, averting his eyes from Sergio’s bare chest. “I...I thought...I thought you were all up.”

Sergio licked his lips and played his fingers across his chest. “You know I’m always up, Fernando.”

Fernando swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

“You want to dress me?”

“If you’re ready, sir.”

“I’m always ready,” Sergio said as he stood. His eyes roved across the blonde, and he crossed the room to stand by him. “Take off my pajamas?”

Fernando pulled Sergio’s pants down, closing his eyes as the fabric slid over the round orbs of Sergio’s ass, taut from years of riding. Sergio stepped out of them and Fernando balled them up and put them in the laundry basket.

“Do you want your black trousers today?” Fernando asked. Don’t look at him. Don’t look. He’s the Lord and you are the maid. Not again.

Sergio sighed. “Black. They’re not dead, yet.”

Fernando looked as Sergio’s voice cracked. Beneath his sarcastic exterior, Sergio was worried and upset.

“I’m sure they’re fine, sir,” Fernando said as the sexual tension drained out of the room.

Sergio looked away, but his facade was broken. “Just leave the clothes. I’ll dress myself.”

“Are you...”

“See to Cesc,” Sergio said grabbing the trousers Fernando held. “He’s...taking it badly.”

“Of course, sir,” Fernando said and quickly slipped out of the room. In the corridor, he leaned against the wall and tried to catch his breath.

There was so much more to Lord Sergio than anyone gave him credit for. He felt everything so much, but he hid it all from the world, so he wasn’t so vulnerable. 

Fernando closed his eyes. Stop it. He can never be yours. 

 

Chapter 3

Gerard sat and read the paper Lord Bernabeu had discarded, sipping his afternoon tea. The details of the sinking of the Titanic were emblazoned across the Monday morning edition, and Gerard found it all oddly fascinating. It all didn’t seem actually real. Almost like a story out of one of those novels Xavi was always devouring.

“How can you read that?” Juan, the junior footman said. “It’s so horrible.”

“Aw, is little Juan traumatized?” Gerard said.

“Aren’t you?” Juan asked, incredulous. Though he knew Gerard, the senior footman, could be insensitive, but this took the cake.

“By what?” Gerard asked. “A bunch of rich people sunk?”

“But...the Lady, and Lord Xabi!” Juan said his eyes starting to fill with tears. 

“Mostly I’m worried what happens to the household if Lord Cristiano takes over,” said Xavi, the head housekeeper as he shot Gerard a warning look.

Juan composed himself and sipped his tea. Whenever he showed weakness, Gerard used it against him. He knew he was too sensitive, wasn’t Pepe always saying?

“That won’t be for ages, surely,” Gerard said, pretending to ignore Xavi’s look, but turning the page. “Lord Raul isn’t that old, and in good health.”   
“True,” Xavi said as he poured his own tea and picked up a couple of biscuits. How Andy got them this flaky was amazing.

The staff gathered in the afternoon for tea, arriving at various stages as their work for the day was completed, and before dinner had to be arranged. Pepe, the Lord’s personal valet arrived, looking troubled.

“There’s been another telegram.”

The others turned and looked at the usually cheerful man, who’s face was a picture of worry.

“So tell us!” Xavi insisted.

“They believe all survivors have been accounted for. Neither the Lady or Master Xabi were on either list.”

* * * *

Iker rocked Cesc on his bed while the boy howled in pain. Tears streamed down his own face. They all loved their mother dearly, but Cesc had been her baby. She had coddled him so, but no one minded because he was such a sweet boy. He looked up to Iker, but had never been far from his mother’s skirts as a child.

Raul came in the room, looking lost. “We’ll have dinner at eight. Cook made duck in orange sauce, Cesc.”

Cesc sniffled and looked, red eyed at Raul. “My favorite.”

“I know,” Raul said, coming over to kiss Cesc’s temple. “And I know we are all grieving, but the staff are working hard to keep things normal, and we must appear at dinner.”

Iker always thought it a little strange to keep up appearances for the staff, but he knew it was important to his father. With social position came expectations for behavior.

“I’ve had a telegram from Cousin Luis, sending his condolences.”

“That was quick,” Iker snapped, but Raul gave him a look.

“They all are, of course, devastated by the news. I’ve written them inviting them to come and stay this week, as tomorrow I will meet with the minister to arrange a service.”

Iker nodded. “Will you need help?”

“If you would like to sit in, that would be nice,” Raul agreed. Iker had never had much responsibility around the house as Mamen insisted that Xabi always be at his side to learn the running of the house, though Raul knew him capable. Some day, if a good marriage could be arranged, he may be Lord of his own manor.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Cesc wondered, and Iker and Raul both knew they meant his future. It had always been thought that if Xabi could secure a fortune through marriage, money would be set aside for all three of the younger sons, who might be able to marry into some land.

“You will always been looked after, baby,” Iker promised. “Always.”

* * * *

Juan stood with the bowl of orange sauce, waiting for Lord Cesc to want more on his duck, but the young man just pushed the pieces around his plate. There was a subdued atmosphere at the table.

“What, does he want to measure for curtains?” Sergio asked as Raul relayed the news of Luis and Cristiano’s visit.

“They are coming to pay their condolences,” Raul said firmly. “They are family and they are always welcome in our home.”

Sergio forked duck into his mouth to shut himself up. As kids, he’d always gotten along with his cousin Cristiano, and his younger brother, Fabio, but Cristiano had gone to university in France, and Sergio had not seen him for years. 

Cesc laid down his fork and fiddled with the napkin in his lap. “What if...”

The others turned to look at him. “What if what, Cesc?” Raul prompted.

Carles appeared with an empty tray, meant to collect the dishes when the family was done, but realized no one had eaten much. He set the tray on the buffet and glanced at Juan. Juan gave the slightest of shrugs, saying he had no idea how much longer they would be with the main course, and Carles made to leave, but Cesc’s next statement left him frozen in his tracks.

“What if one of us were to marry Cristiano?”

Sergio dropped his fork and it fell with a clatter. “What?”

“I mean...,” Cesc went on, his already red eyes filling up again. “I mean,” he dabbed at his eyes, trying to get control of himself. “He’s a distant cousin and all, so that’s fine, and if one of us marries him, then Bernabeu Hall stays with us. And none of our plans have to change...right?”

“But that still leaves us at his mercy!” Sergio spat.

Raul covered Sergio’s hand with his own. “In a way.”

“Yes, but then one of us would still be here, and the others would benefit as well,” Iker said, seeing the sense of Cesc’s suggestion.

“Yes, but which one of us has to be the sacrificial lamb?”

 

Chapter 4

Pepe helped Lord Bernabeu undress for the evening, noting the haggard look on his face. He’d lost his beloved wife and eldest son all in one night. Lesser men wouldn’t still be standing.

“Is there anything I can do, my lord?” Pepe asked quietly as he finished helping Raul get ready for bed.

Raul took a breath. “Thank you, Pepe, but no. I don’t think there’s anything to be done until morning.”

“Carles said he had some sleeping draughts in the cupboard if you’d like...?”

Raul looked at him, and they both knew sleep would not come otherwise. “Yes, Pepe, that’s kind. Mix some in some juice and give it to Cesc as well?”

“Of course, my lord.”

Pepe made his way down the stairs to the lower level where the staff were cleaning up their own dinners and getting things set out for the morning. He stuck his head into Carles’s office where Carles was putting up the silver.

“Carles, his lordship has asked for a sleeping draught, and one for Lord Cesc as well.”

Carles nodded. “Of course, thank you, Pepe.”

Pepe hovered in the door.

Carles looked up at him. “You feeling useless as well?”

Pepe nodded and had a seat. “It’s like the very life has gone from the house.”

“It’s going to be hard,” Carles acknowledged as he got down the jar with the sleeping draughts in it. “I’m half tempted to have a pinch of this myself.”

“Or go to bed with a bottle of wine,” Pepe gave him a slight smile.

“Now there’s an idea,” Carles said with a smile. “How about you take the draughts up, and I’ll see what we have in the staff cupboard?”

Pepe took the jar and went to mix up some draughts. He knew Cesc wouldn’t take it unless tricked, but the others might want some. “Fernando?”

Nando, who was putting the dirty table linens in a basket to be washed, looked up. “Yes?”

“Can you get me a glass of juice for Cesc?”

“Of course,” Fernando said, going to find a bottle of grape juice in the store cupboard. He poured out a glass and took it to Pepe.

Pepe mixed in the draught. “Lord Bernabeu asked this to be taken up to Cesc. Can you check with the others to see if they’d like some as well?”

“Iker might, but Sergio won’t,” Fernando said. “In fact, mix me some for Iker and I’ll take them both up.”

Pepe nodded as Fernando went for another glass. He’d been looking after the boys since coming to the house more than five years ago. He really did know them best.

Carrying the glasses on a tray, Fernando delivered Cesc’s first. He was curled up on his side, clutching a lap quilt, that Fernando recognized as one his mother had stitched.

“Juice?”

“Yes,” Cesc said, sitting up with a snuffle. He took the juice off the tray, slurping it down as he’d not eaten much dinner. He laid back down, and Fernando tucked him in.

“Can I get you anything else?” Fernando asked, stroking Cesc’s hair.

Cesc shook his head. “I’m okay.”

“Ring if you do?”

Cesc nodded and Fernando left him. He delivered Iker’s juice, and the older son knew what it was, but didn’t object.    
Finally, Fernando hesitated in front of Sergio’s door. He hadn’t been summoned or sent. He had no business here.

He knocked quietly.

“Come.”  
Fernando pushed the door open. “Did you need anything else, sir?”

Sergio was sat on the edge of his bed, looking tired. He sighed. “I need a lot of things, Fernando.”

“Anything I can help with?” Fernando asked as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

Sergio looked up at Fernando and a for a moment, Fernando held his breath. Sergio should send him away. He should walk out.

But when Sergio lifted his hand Fernando moved toward him, and let Sergio wrap his arm around Fernando’s middle, resting his head on Fernando’s chest and started to cry.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Fernando said as tears welled in his own eyes. He knew Sergio meant himself and the family, but Fernando could only think about himself and Sergio. What if Sergio had to marry Cristiano?

In bed, at night, Fernando like to take himself into another world, where if didn’t matter that his father had been a farmer and Sergio’s an Earl. Where Fernando could look Sergio in the eye and tell him he loved him and have Sergio propose. Or else, if reality refused to be silent, the idea would creep upon on him that he and Sergio could run away together. Take off for the continent and live like gypsies on nothing more than their love for each other.

But even that dream was a hopeless one. Fernando knew Sergio well, and that the young man was too used to his life of comfort. He had expectations of hot tea with cream and five course dinners. No, a man like Cristiano was probably better for Sergio anyway.

With a start, Fernando realized Sergio’s fingers had begun to wander down his back, though Fernando could hardly feel the play of Sergio’s fingers through the thick wool of his uniform. But Sergio’s hands soon moved to peel it off. Fernando allowed it, even forgoing his usual protestations. Sergio needed him tonight, and for once, Fernando was going to let himself pretend it wasn’t impossible.

Sergio pulled Fernando down to the bed, kissing him feverishly. Clothes were discarded and hands roamed, but even as they gave into each other, they were aware of the need to keep their voices now. All their noises made with closed lips, breath held. Sergio guided Fernando’s hand to his cock, and Fernando obligingly stroked it, his own pleasure coming from the way Sergio panted and writhed. When he felt Sergio stiffen, and the damp heat against his hand, Fernando found his own release rubbed out against Sergio’s hip.

As Sergio relaxed, Fernando moved to get up, but Sergio caught his wrist.

“Stay with me.”

Fernando pressed his eyes closed. “I can’t. You know I’ll be missed.”

“I know,” Sergio said as reality fell back on top of them. “But just until I fall asleep.”

Fernando settled down into Sergio and felt himself mold into him, breathing in his scent. Living in the fantasy for just a few more minutes.

 

Chapter 5

Cristiano sulked in the corner of the train carriage, the landscape passing before unseeing eyes.

His brother, Fabio looked over his paper at his brother and concealed a smirk.

Catching his eye, Cristiano gave him a scowl. 

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have arrived in the new car,” Cristiano finally said to his father.

“You know perfectly well,” Luis said, his patience at the end of it’s rope for his sons. “It’s not meant for long travel, and fifty miles is too far. Would you like to turn up on foot because of a broken down car?”

“It runs fine,” Cristiano muttered as he picked lint off his trousers. They needed to do something to impress the family of Bernabeu Hall who undoubtedly thought of them as the poor relations coming in to take what was theirs due to a rather unfairly drafted will. Cristiano had never thought to inherit, with Xabi being such a fine man, but here they were.

Luis ignored the comment and checked the time. Ideally, they would only stay a few days to pay their condolences. He would need to speak with Raul about the terms of the will at some point, but knew this was not the time. He was just hoping everyone could stay civil long enough to get through this. If he knew anything about his brother, he knew the loss of his wife and son would be devastating to him, and Luis just feared the inheritance situation would cause unneeded tension. He loved his brother.

“We are still going to London for the season, aren’t we?” Fabio asked suddenly, and Luis found both of his sons looking expectantly at him.

“I will be going,” Luis said, as he was an active member of the House of Lords. “I’ve yet to decide about the two of you.”

“Father,” Fabio whined. “That’s not fair. I need to...find a wife.”

Luis shot his younger son a look. “You mean you need to gamble and seduce innocents?”

Cristiano snorted, but mostly because that was only half true. It was no secret that Fabio liked a game of cards, but what he had managed to keep from his father was that the nights he spent away, coming home in the morning, disheveled, were because he was with his lover.

“Eventually I will have to think about a way for me to earn a living,” Fabio pointed out. “There aren’t any relatives to die and leave me a fortune.”

“I’ll look after you, little brother,” Cristiano said with a smile. “I’ll need a butler.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s enough, both of you,” Luis snapped, trying not to raise his voice. “We are going to at the very least pretend we have some manners during this visit. If you can prove that you know how to behave, I will take you to London for the season. If not, perhaps a few months with no car and no new clothes will teach both of you your place!”

Cristiano’s jaw dropped. No car and no new clothes? How dare he!

Luis leveled his gaze on his eldest. “You are going to be an Earl and the lord of a vast manor. You need to learn responsibility. You have a degree from the Sorbonne. Act like it.”

Fabio hid his face in the newspaper as Cristiano sulked. As far as Fabio could tell, Cristiano had learned how to shop the finest fashion houses of Paris and not much else.

The train slowed to the stop at the village of Bernabeu, and the three rose. Luis’s valet, Nani appeared, collecting up their belongings. They stepped off the train, and found the Bernabeu’s driver, Sami, waiting for them.

Their bags were loaded in the car and they were driven out to the estate at the edge of the town. Cristiano looked out the window at the grounds that would one day be his. He’d spent so much time here as a child. His own mother had died in childbirth, and many summers Luis would send he and Fabio here with their governess, and they would ride horse with their cousins, run around the grounds until they got drug inside by their ears and scolded for making a mess of their clothes.

Sergio and Iker loved this place. It had to be killing him that Cristiano was going to inherit.

 

Chapter 6

“Is every one ready?” Carles barked as the staff scurried to assemble in the staff room, checking their uniforms for presentability. His eyes roved across them as he checked his own hair was neatly clasped at the nape of his neck. He paused in front of Gerard and needlessly adjusted the younger man’s tie.

Gerard caught his eyes and gave him a little smirk. Carles’s hands dropped and he galred. Gerard blew him a kiss, and flushing, Carles turned to Mesut.

“Look at the state of your shoes!” he snapped.

With a squeak, Mesut looked down to see his reflection in his shoes, but if you squinted, there was a smudge on the side of his left shoe. He hurriedly bent down and removed the mark.

When Mesut straightened up, he saw Sami glaring at Carles’s back as he looked over Juan. He caught Sami’s eye and silently begged him silently to leave it alone. Sami didn’t like how Carles and Gerard bullied him, but Mesut found it much easier to just ignore it.

“Sami,” Carles said without looking at him, “Don’t you need to be getting to the train station?”

“On my way,” Sami said and disappeared up the stairs.

Carles went back to his inspections, calling out Andy for a stain on his apron and nearly bringing Juan to tears over the creases in his pants being uneven.

“Alright,” Carles said, finding the staff to be acceptable. “I don’t have to stress to you all how important this visit is for the Lord and his sons.”

“Are they going to move in? Kick everyone out?” Bojan asked, worried. “Where will I go? I don’t have any family since me mum died!”

Xavi put an arm around the boy and kissed his temple. “No one is getting thrown out, love.”

But Bojan’s words echoed what everyone in the room was thinking. Eventually the family would have to leave Bernabeu Hall, and Cristiano was sure to have staff of his own. 

Though, Fernando mused as they all trooped quietly out to the front of the house, when Sergio left, maybe he’d take Fernando with him. Maybe they could never be together, really, but Fernando could become Sergio’s valet. His personal assistant. They would be able to be lovers and no one would be the wiser. 

“Wake up, Romeo,” Juan said nearly tripping over Fernando as he daydreamed.

Fernando grinned at him. “What?”

“You have that look. What’s her name? Or his?” 

Carles turned and glared them both into silence. Fernando flushed. He needed to watch himself. The staff would give him hell if they knew about him and Sergio. As much as the peerage do not dream of marrying beneath themselves, servants were expected to mind their place as well.

And everyone would think Sergio was using him as an easy fuck. But Fernando knew it wasn’t like that.

However, Carles would fire him the moment he even heard a rumor.

The staff lined up in the crisp, sunny spring morning. They knew what time the train arrived, and Sami would have gotten there to be waiting, but the trains rarely seemed to arrived when expected. They could be there awhile.

Though just a few minutes after they lined up, dust could be seen at the end of the long drive, and Mesut went scampering into the house to tell Lord Bernabeu his guests were arriving.

The family had been nervously waiting in the sitting room. They were all on their feet immediately, and filed out after Mesut who held the door.

Pepe watched the sons trying to keep straight faces despite the fear and apprehension they all must be feeling. Under Iker’s emotionless exterior was deep pain at the losses and uncertainty for the future. Sergio’s face was dark, and Pepe hoped the young man could hold his tongue. After many years as Raul’s valet, he knew that Sergio worried him far more than the others. Xabi and Iker were strong and could look after themselves, and Cesc, well, someone would always take care of Cesc because all it took was a smile and everyone was besotted with him. A rich heir or heiress would take a shine to him and Cesc would be pampered forever.

But Sergio was so emotional, and tended to act rashly. Raul worried that his son would get hurt, and Pepe had seen it happen.

The car pulled to a stop, and Gerard stepped forward to open the back door. The first to emerge was Luis, Raul’s younger brother. His face was a picture of concern, and without pausing for the normal pleasantries, came to his brother’s side.

“I was simply devastated to hear the news,” Luis said and hugged his brother close.

Pepe saw his master sag into his brother for a moment, but his dignity won out, and he straightened. One did not show emotional weakness, and certainly not in front of the staff. “Thank you. It was kind of you to come.”

Cristiano and Fabio had emerged from the car, and came to stand with their father.

“Cristiano, we haven’t seen you in ages,” Raul said with a smile that looked sincere. “How good of you to come.”

Sergio muttered something that Pepe didn’t catch, but a dark look crossed Cristiano’s face. His dark eyes drilled into his cousin’s.

“Contrary to what my cousin may think, we are here to pay our condolences, nothing more.”

“Likely here to measure up your inheritance.”

“That is enough!” Raul snapped. “Sergio, inside the house. See if you can find your manners which you have obviously misplaced!”

Sergio skulked off, and Cesc looked like he might actually start to cry. “He’s upset about Mum...”

But no one was listening to him. Both Cristiano and Fabio glared, and Raul and Luis could no longer meet one another’s eyes, all familial ties seeming to have snapped under Sergio’s harsh words.

“Perhaps we should all retire for some tea. I’m sure it’s been a tiring journey,” Iker said, filling the gap even as he squeezed Cesc’s arm.

The family filed in the house and as Mesut and Gerard turned to get the trunks from the car, the staff let out a collective breath.

“So just a friendly visit, then?” Andy muttered. 

 

Chapter 7

Mesut scurried around the room that had been assigned to Lord Cristiano. Neither of the brothers had brought assistants, so Mesut was to serve as their maid while they were here. He had done the job before, but he was acutely aware of how important it was to impress the man who might be their master some day.

The family had just returned from the memorial service. The staff had attended as well, eyes teary, but remaining dignified, but Mesut was fairly sure there were tears gleaming in Carles’s eyes.

Shoes, sock, tie...Mesut looked over the clothes laid out for dinner. The door to the bedroom opened, and he looked up to see Cristiano, enter, looking troubled.

“Sorry, sir,” Mesut said with a low bow. “I thought you would be downstairs until later.”

“I decided to take a nap,” Cristiano said, his eyes not really focusing on the maid. Mesut could tell things downstairs continued to be strained. 

“Of course, sir,” Mesut said and moved to turn down the bed. “Can I be of any assistance?”

“Not unless you want to take a nap with me,” Cristiano said dismissively, and then sighed. “I’m sorry. Your name was...?”

“Mesut, sir.”

“Yes, Mesut,” Cristiano looked at the man properly now, and smiled. “It’s been a trying day.”

“Of course, sir,” Mesut said, and found himself caught in the beautiful man’s eyes.

There was a moment where they just stared at each other, and then Cristiano broke away. “Thank you, Mesut. That will be all.”

“Ring when you want to dress for dinner,” Mesut bowed again and backed out of the room, the mere thought of dressing Cristiano bringing a flush to his cheeks.

“I will.”

* * * *

Gerard sat alone, reading the paper, sipping a cup of tea when Carles stormed into the staff room. Gerard ignored him, turning the page.

Without a word, Carles grabbed Gerard by the arm and unceremoniously dragged him into his office, kicking the door closed behind him and slamming the younger man up against the wall.

“How dare you...” Carles began, but Gerard gave him a smirk.

“If you wanted another blow job, you just needed to ask.”

Carles’s eyes bulged in anger. “This has got to stop!”

“No blow job?” Gerard said, though his facade wavered slightly. He knew he was pushing his limits with the man who could have him tossed out on the street with no references.

“One time. I let you do that one time!”

“Let? Begged, more like.” Gerard, never one to know what was best for him, rubbed his thigh between Carles’s legs, the man’s anger turning him on intensely.

Carles shoved Gerard away from him as his cock began to throb at the contact. “Fucking little shit.”

Gerard leaned against the wall and gazed at Carles. His normally well tamed hair had come loose, and he panted, flushed.

“Please can I suck your cock again?”

Carles looked at Gerard with lust filled eyes. No. You’re only encouraging his behavior. You have to stop. 

But Gerard licked his lips and dropped to his knees. As he reached for Carles the older man leaned against his desk, bracing his hands.

“If you want,” Gerard looked up, reaching into Carles’s pants. “I’ll bend over that desk and let you fuck me.”

Carles closed his eyes and groaned. No. You can’t do this. But as a warm hand closed around his solid shaft, all he could think about was how tight and hot Gerard’s ass was. How good that tight hot heat would feel.

And when Gerard tugged, Carles gave in. He dragged Gerard back to his feet.

“Pants,” he grunted, and Gerard quickly unfastened his suspenders and let his pants pool around his ankles. Closing his eyes, knowing this would be a quick, brutal invasion, he grasped the edge of the desk and held on tight.

However, Carles sucked on two fingers and worked up into Gerard for a few moments, loosening the tight entrance so it wouldn’t be so painful. Gerard’s cock ached as Carles’s fingers scissored into him.

“You will never speak of this,” Carles growled as he removed his fingers and jammed his cock up into Gerard.

“Never!” Gerard gasped, the painful invasion so wonderful to him. 

“You’re the slut, coming on to me,” Carles reminded him as his thrusts were sharp and deep, making Gerard see stars.

“Fuck me, fuck this slut.”

The encounter was far to brief for both of them, as the came hard and fast. Panting, Gerard lay spent across the desk.

Carles righted himself, not even fooling himself any more that this wasn’t what they both needed.

“Do clean yourself up,” Carles said, almost kindly as he caressed Gerard’s ass.

And then he was gone.

Gerard smiled to himself. It was almost too easy.

* * * *

Dinner was a very subdued affair. Cesc chatted about his horse, and asked Fabio questions about new fashions in London, as Cesc hadn’t been to London for the season yet, and Fabio was happy to go on about it, even drawing Cristiano in on a few occasions. Sergio was silent and Raul noticed how much wine he was putting away, and Iker tried to talk with his Uncle some, but it all seemed a little forced and came in fits and starts.

“Carles, we’ll retire to the drawing room,” Raul finally said much to the relief at everyone at the table. 

“I think I’m going to head upstairs, I have a bit of a headache,” Iker said, avoiding his father’s eye.

Iker left, and a few minutes later, Cristiano made his excuses. He knew no one in this house wanted to see him, and he hoped his father wasn’t planning to stay here long. 

He didn’t bother to ring for his maid. The adorable boy just might have been his cup of tea on another evening, but Cristiano really wasn’t in the mood just tonight. He removed his own jacket and tie and laid them carefully over a chair.

The evening was probably cool, and thinking the air might help clear his head, Cristiano stepped out of the French doors which lead to the balcony which ran across the back of the house. 

He was startled to see Iker already leaning on the railing, gazing out at the darkened gardens.

“I’m sorry,” Cristiano said, turning to go back inside.

“It’s fine,” Iker said. “Please stay.”

Cristiano gazed into his eyes for a moment, looking for the expected anger or hate, but there was nothing but tired resignation. He moved to the railing next to Iker, matching his posture and took in the view. The grounds were still and untroubled, and Cristiano quickly understood why Iker sought this refuge.

“I know you think I’m just here to check out my inheritance.”

Iker didn’t insult Cristiano by denying this sentiment. There was a quiet moment, this statement finally in the open.

Iker gathered his thoughts. “We’re struggling,” Iker finally said. “We’ve had the heart of our family ripped out, and while the wound is still raw, here you are, the person who stole our future.”

“I didn’t...” Cristiano began, but Iker clasped his hand and Cristiano fell silent.

“I know,” Iker said. “You’ve done nothing to deserve our ire. Not really.”

“I don’t want it,” Cristiano said, hoping he sounded sincere. “I mean...this is your home. It’s your title...Iker...” Cristiano struggled for words. “You and I grew up as friends. I thought Sergio and I were friends, though it’s clear we are not any more. But I don’t want to be responsible for this pain.”

Iker nodded as his eyes grew wet. “Thank you for that.”

Cristiano squeezed Iker’s hand. “Isn’t there anything to be done?”

Iker closed his eyes. He looked deep inside himself for the strength to voice what needed to be said. “There is a solution.”

Realization began to dawn on Cristiano.

Iker turned to him and met his eyes with a steely gaze. “If we marry, the title and the house stay with this family line.”

Cristiano’s heart constricted. “Iker...I...”

“I know,” Iker said as he pulled away. “I know.”

“Iker!” Cristiano begged. “I...this is not me saying no. This is...I need time, okay? This is all sudden on me, too.”

Iker nodded quietly. “Okay.”

“It’s just,” Cristiano tried to explain himself. “I’m young...you’re young...and this is deciding our whole lives right here.”

“I know,” Iker said quietly. “But my right to be selfish about my future went down with the Titanic.”

 

Chapter 8

Cesc couldn’t sleep. He figured out last night that they’d been giving his sleeping draughts in his night time juice after wondering why the normally sweet liquid had a bitter taste. He had taken it from Fernando tonight, but the full glass still sat on his bedside table. They were all treating him like a little baby, and he was tired of it.

So maybe he had been acting like a kid for two long. His mother had still liked to cuddle him each night, stroking his hair and asking him about his day each night before he fell asleep. Cesc had liked her snuggles.

And now she was gone and Cesc was sixteen, nearly seventeen. He couldn’t be a baby any more.

His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten much dinner due to the stress of it all. He didn’t want to think about their futures. 

He climbed out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown. Lighting a candle, he tip-toed down the back stairs to the kitchen which was dark and silent. He poked around and found some leftover cake. He cut himself a slice and stood in his bare feet, eating the sugary treat.

A face appeared around the door. “Hey!”

Cesc started and nearly dropped his cake.

“Oh! I’m sorry Master Cesc. I didn’t realize.” The head bowed.

“Bojan?” Cesc asked, recognizing the kitchen boy who was his age.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you want some cake?”

Bojan looked afraid, his features wary in the dim light of the candle. “Andy will kill me if I eat the cake.”

“Really?” Cesc said, confused as people nearly never told him no. He cut off two more slices and offered one. “We’ll tell Andy I ate it.”

Bojan grinned and scampered over to accept the cake. “Do you want some tea?”

“Sure,” Cesc grinned.

Bojan boiled the water and found plates for the cake. They sat at the table.

“I’m sorry about your mum,” Bojan said once the cake was gone.

Cesc nodded as he took a sip of tea. “Thank you.”

“My mum died when I was twelve,” Bojan said as he pushed crumbs around his plate.

“I’m sorry,” Cesc said. “Was that why you came to work here?”

“Yes,” Bojan said. “Carles knew my mum and she made him promise to help me find a place when she was gone. Not a lot of people want skinny twelve year old boys. Well, except...” Bojan trailed off.

“Except what?” Cesc asked. 

Bojan picked at the table. “The brothels will take you. I...my mum knew a man who wanted to...well...”

Cesc’s eyes grew the size of saucers. “People want...there are men who want...to...to have SEX with twelve year old boys?!”

Bojan nodded, cringing at the memory. “I thought...when my mum died, I was so afraid. There was nothing for me. My mum had been sick and not worked for many months, and we had no money and...”

“You...you didn’t have to...” Cesc’s eyes started to tear up as his naive brain couldn’t even process the horror of it.

Bojan shook his head. “I didn’t. He came for me and I hid.”

Cesc reached out and grabbed Bojan’s fingers.

“About a week later, Carles found me scrounging in the trash cans outside the pub. He’d been looking for me, but I’d had to hide. I...I remembered him from visiting my mum and I was so relieved to see him. He brought me here...” Bojan’s eyes spilled over. “I don’t think they needed me, but Carles cleaned me up and got me clothes. I don’t know what would have happened to me if he hadn’t.”

Cesc’s tears fell over as well. “Is it really that bad? I mean...out in the world?”

Bojan nodded. “It really is. You have no idea how lucky we all are to live here. Your dad is a really good master, too.”

“What are we going to do if we get kicked out?” Cesc whimpered.

“I don’t know,” Bojan said. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Cesc nodded and wiped at his tears. “We won’t think about it.”

“Besides, you won’t go out on the streets,” Bojan told him. “Your brothers can look after you.”

“I’ll make sure we look after you, too, okay?” Cesc promised. “No matter what.”

Bojan smiled. “Thanks, Master Cesc.”

“Just call me Cesc, okay?”

Bojan grinned.

There was a sound from the hall, and Bojan jumped up. “I’m dead if Carles catches me.”

“Go,” Cesc said, shooing him away. “I can clean up.”

“Are you sure?” Bojan didn’t like the idea of leaving the Lord’s son to do his dishes.

“Go,” Cesc said firmly, and Bojan scampered off up the back stairs.

Carles appeared, still managing to look put together despite the hour. “Is there something you needed, sir?”

“Just having a snack!” Cesc smiled, hiding the evidence in the sink, and then looking confused about the taps which were different from the ones in his bathroom.

“I can clean that up for you,” Carles offered as he was disconcerted to see Cesc cleaning up. “You should have rung if you needed something.”

Cesc shrugged, but more than willingly moved away from the sink. “I didn’t want to wake any one.”

Carles nodded formally. “Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks,” Cesc said. “I’m gonna head back to bed.”

“Very well,” Carles said and watched the boy scamper up the stairs as well.

As he cleaned up the two cups, saucers, and plates, he wiped his own tears away, not wanting to think that any of this family would ever want for a place to live.

 

Chapter 9

 

There was a stunned silence in the room.

Iker looked nervously at Cristiano who’s eyes were trained on his father. Iker’s own father’s jaw had dropped.

Cesc let out a nervous giggle.

“Well, say something,” Cristiano demanded a little petulantly. He had just announced his engagement, for the love of god.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Luis asked quietly, glancing at his brother, not wanting to seem harsh.

Cristiano nodded unflinchingly. He wasn’t sure, but he knew, in his heart, this was right. “Iker and I have come to an understanding. This is best for the family.”

Raul caught and held Iker’s gaze. “You’re sure.”

“Yes.”

“You’re both fucking crazy,” Sergio said and got up. He stalked out of the room.

Cesc let out another giggle. “Well....congratulations!”

“Thank you, Cesc,” Iker said with a grin at his little brother who came to throw his arms around him. Iker held him close and whispered. “I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of, okay?”

Cesc nodded and turned to give Cristiano a hug. 

Fabio looked on, slightly put out that Sergio had gotten to make the dramatic exit. Sergio always got to be the drama queen. They were nuts. It was 1914 for heaven’s sake- you were allowed to be more sensible about marriage. It wasn’t all about improving fortunes and securing titles.

But he knew his brother and there was no use trying to talk the stubborn man out of anything. And Iker was the best of the lot, in Fabio’s opinion. Cristiano could have had Cesc pushed on him.

With effort, Fabio stood and congratulated his brother as his father did the same. Luis was probably relieved to have this unpleasantness settled.

“So!” Raul said with a smile. “Luis was telling me that Fabio and Cristiano had been asking to spend the season in London with him. Shall we expand the party and all move to the city for a few months so we can get things arranged?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Iker agreed.

“London?” Cesc squeaked. “OMG YAY!”

 

Chapter 10

Carles hated London. He hated the noise and how the schedule was forever changing and the impossibility of keeping the staff from sneaking out to see the sights.

"Bojan," he barked as the boy's wide eyes gaped at the passing carriages.

Bojan scampered back to the car and grabbed a trunk. He hefted it onto his back and up the stairs.

Xavi and Mesut had been at the house for a week to air it out and get everything ready for the family.

The family was arriving this evening and Carles and Bojan had left early this morning with with Sami, the car loaded up with trunks. They would finish setting up the house so everything would be ready.

Inside, Mesut led Bojan, who had never been to the London house before, up to Sergio's room with a trunk stuffed with more clothes than Bojan would ever own in his life.

Bojan scampered back downstairs for another trunk as Mesut began to unpack. Most of these things would need to be pressed, but if he could get them hung up, it would make the job easier for he an Fernando.

Xavi bustled in with the fresh linens. "If you can unpack Master Sergio and Cesc's room, I'll get Iker's. Pepe told me to leave Lord Bernabeu's things and he would get to them."

Mesut and Xavi shared a grin: Pepe was very particular.

Once the luggage was unloaded, Sami left in the car to go wait at the train station. Bojan went to work in the kitchen. Xavi had gone shopping that morning and Bojan had very specific instructions from Andy about getting things settled and prepped for dinner that evening. When Andy arrived, he would finish things.

Finally, as the clock struck six, they all sat at the kitchen table. Bojan set out a tin of biscuits and poured the tea.

"I'm run off my feet," Mesut sighed as he thanked Bojan for the drink.

"I suppose the good news is that this house is smaller than Bernabeu Hall so that it'll be easier to clean," Xavi said as he selected a biscuit.

"And the family goes out a lot of evenings," Carles said.

"But when they do have people over it's usually a large affair," Xavi told Mesut and Bojan who'd never experienced London season. They listened with rap attention.

"Will they get all dressed up to go out?" Bojan asked.

"They do," Carles said with an affectionate smile.

"Lady Mamen used to love the season," Xavi said with a sad smile.

They had a moment of respectful silence, but Bojan had to ask, "Do you think Lord Bernabeu will remarry?"

Carles nodded. "I do think so. He will, of course, observe a respectful mourning period, but Lady Mamen would have wanted him to. Especially since the boys are nearly grown. He'll be lonely."

"I wonder," Xavi started, and then cut himself off.

"What?" Mesut asked, curious.

"It's just," Xavi looked to Carles. "I've heard stories about Lord Bernabeu- when he was younger."

Carles nodded. "You mean Sir Guti?"

"Who's that?" Bojan asked excitedly.

"When Raul was young, he had a...friend."

"Lover?" Mesut asked, wide eyes.

"We don't know for sure," Carles admonished, not wanting to tell tales on the Lord.

"You've met Guti!" Xavi said with a wink. "Yes lovers."

Carles shook his head, but he was smiling. "Raul loved him very much, but his father was very old fashioned, and didn't believe in the use of surrogates to produce heirs, and was insistent that Raul marry a woman."

"Lord Di Stefano just hated Guti, you mean," Xavi interjected.

"Perhaps," Carles allowed. 

"But I thought Lord Bernabeu loved Lady Mamen!" Bojan asked, upset.

"Oh, he did," Carles assured him. "Very much. And he was never bitter about having to give up Guti, not really. She brought him much joy."

Bojan nodded, relived to have his faith restored.

"Does anyone know what happened to Guti?" Xavi asked.

Carles shook his head. "After Raul married, I had heard he ran off to Turkey, but nothing has been heard of him since."

"Wouldn't that be romantic?" Mesut asked with a happy sigh. "If Guti and Raul got back together after all these years?"

Carles said, "Yes. Now, the family should be here any time, let's take a last check of the house."

They rushed off to work, but as Mesut ran a dust cloth across a forgotten banister, he couldn't get the romantic notion out of his head.

* * * *

Fabio loved London. He loved the people and the activity. The parties and the clubs. The chance to get out from under the watchful gaze of his father.

As he dressed for dinner that evening, he wondered if he could get out of the house tonight to visit the club. They were just dining in since they had only arrived that afternoon, and tomorrow night was dinner with Lord Bernabeu's family which meant he wouldn't get out then.

And he needed to go. To see him.

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in."

His father peered in. "I hope you don't mind, but Lord Mourinho is in town and I've invited him to dinner."

Fabio tried and failed not to look annoyed. "Okay."

Luis walked in and straightened Fabio's collar. "He means to take on an apprentice to help him in his office this session of the House of Lords, and if you can keep your focus, he might just consider you."

Fabio sighed. "I thought Cristiano was meant to take your seat."

"Cristiano is going to be Lord of Bernabeu Hall. He's not going to have time to devote to it," Luis said, a stern edge to his tone.

Fabio sighed, really having no interest in politics, “Cristiano went to university to learn about those things.”

“Yes, and you and I need to talk about you considering applying.”

Fabio groaned. “You know I was terrible at school.”

“Yes,” his father said dryly, knowing exactly how much it had cost to keep his younger son from getting expelled on more than one occasion. "Just try to act like you have a brain at dinner," Luis said. 

"Yes, Father." Fabio sulked as Luis walked out, more determined than ever to go out tonight.


	2. Chapters 11-20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 11-20

Chapter 11

Jose sat across the table from Luis and listened to his old friend discuss policy on Africa, and nodded when appropriate. Across the table, Luis's two sons feigned varyingly successful degrees of interest. Fabio's eyes were on his father, but his brain was clearly elsewhere. Cristiano was paying attention, but he seemed preoccupied as well.

Jose knew about Cristiano's inheritance of the Bernabeu legacy and was disappointed to know that Cristiano was no longer going to pursue a career in politics. Luis expected Fabio to take his place, but Fabio had no interest at all. Jose would take Fabio on to work in his office as Luis expected, but with little hope for the young man.

No, Cristiano was far more suited to politics. He had a keen interest in debate and had a natural charisma that could not be taught.

Never mind he was a beautiful young man.

Cristiano sensed Jose's eyes on him and turned, giving his father's friend a pleasant smile, but the look in his eyes made Cristiano stop short. He flushed slightly and looked away quickly.

Jose's look was hungry, and Cristiano felt a zing of desire. He'd had a crush on the older man for ages, but he'd never imagined he'd see that look...

"Don't you agree Fabio?"

Fabio's eyes got wide. "Of course, Father."

No one at the table was fooled, but Luis let Fabio off the hook.

"Well, shall we retire to the library?"

Fabio was out of his seat in a moment. "I'm rather tired, I think I'll head to bed."

Luis narrowed his eyes. "It's barely eleven."

"I know," Fabio said, faking a yawn. "Just with the traveling and all."

"The boy need his rest," Jose agreed. "Shall I expect you in my office in the morning?"

Fabio nodded with a smile. "Of course, sir."

"I'll be sure he's up in time," Luis said as his eyes bored into those of his son, letting the young man know he knew exactly where he was headed.

Fabio looked away and then excused himself.

"Cristiano," Luis said as Fabio's footsteps receded up the stairs. "Could you?"

"Of course, father," Cristiano said and said good evening to Jose, unable to look the older man in the eye. He quietly followed Fabio up the stairs.

And as Fabio slipped out the back of the house half an hour later, Cristiano was on his heels.

* * * *

"Think Dad will let us go out to the club tonight?" Sergio asked as he lounged on Iker's bed while his older brother finished dressing for dinner.

"I want to go out!" Cesc said but was ignored.

Iker shot Sergio a look in the mirror. "We've only just arrived today."

"I know," Sergio said with a smirk. "But tomorrow night we've got your fiance over for dinner and as soon as word gets out we're in town and you're engaged we'll be sipping tea in ever parlor this side of the Thames." 

"Dad might let me go if I stay with you," Cesc tried again, and this time Sergio turned to look at him. 

"There is no way Dad is going to let you go to the club."

Cesc pouted. "He might. I'm not a kid any more."

"Cesc," Iker sighed. "You're sitting there with your lower lip stuck out."

The lip retreated. "Come on! You guys will look after me!"

Sergio rolled his eyes. "Maybe we don't want to look after you, baby brother."

"I'm not a baby!"

Iker came over to where Cesc was perched on his chaise lounge. "Cesc, honey, we know you want to go, but don't grow up on us too quickly, okay?"

"I'm not a baby," Cesc said more quietly, and gave Iker a dose of his big brown eyes. "Sergio went to the club when he was seventeen."

"And you're only sixteen," Iker reminded him. "And Sergio only got to go because he blackmailed Xabi."

Sergio chuckled. "I never would have told Dad about Steven."

"You had Xabi terrified," Iker reminded him, wistfully remembering his older brother.

"So I can go to the club if I can find something to rat you out to Dad?" Cesc asked hopefully.

"I have no secrets," Iker told Cesc with a kiss on the forehead.

Fernando stuck his head in the room. "Your father asked me to check if you needed anything before dinner?"

Sergio shook his head. "We'll be down in a few minutes."

"Very good, sir," Fernando disappeared.

Sergio got up. Yes, he did have a secret or two, but nothing he intended to let Cesc find out about.

* * * *

"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

Fabio was pushed up against the wall in the cloak room, his mouth plundered by the eager tongue of his lover. He moaned, his need great for these long months apart with nothing more than letters to remind him of this man.

"Raul," Fabio gasped as his lover, Raul Meireles, son of the Prime Minister reached a hand into his pants and wrapped his fingers around his cock.

"Don't tell me to slow down," Raul growled. "You know how bad I need this."

"Shouldn't we...?" Fabio tried to form his protestation as the hand worked him over. "Not...here..."

"Yes here," Raul said. "Right here."

"I...."

"Worried about big brother finding us?"

Fabio's eyes flew open as Raul's deft fingers had gotten his trousers down around his ankles. "Cristiano?"

Raul smirked. "Oh baby, you were in a hurry to see me if you didn't notice him in your shadow. He's not very subtle."

"I need you," Fabio agreed with a gasp as Raul cupped his ass and started to work him open with saliva slick fingers.

"I need you too," Raul said, and emotion over came arrogance as he moved to kiss Fabio again. He did need him. So much it made him crazy every minute they couldn't be together. Why his stupid fucking father couldn't just let him be. Let him have Fabio and fuck the family legacy.

"He'll find us," Fabio whispered when he had breath again, but even as he said it he knew it was lost. Raul's hot, heavy cock pressed against his thigh as Raul gently turned him.

"I know," Raul breathed as he pushed his cock into Fabio with agonizingly slow pressure. The urge to just tear him open was strong. "If he wants he can suck my cock later."

Fabio let out a strangled chuckle as Raul worked in. He tried to relax, to allow the invasion, but it burned. So good...so....

"You tighten around me like that again and I will fuck you until you scream."

Fabio moaned, biting his lip to trap the sound, tipping his hips to let Raul slide the rest of the way home.

And then he began to move. Slow, deep strokes that made Fabio whimper as the thick cock pushed against his prostate. A hand clasped his cock, and Fabio gave up and let Raul have him. Make him feel all the things that they weren't supposed to feel together.

Raul found a steady rhythm, pacing himself to make it last for both of them. Let the urgency fall away...live in this moment, this perfect moment forever. 

"Harder," Fabio begged, on the edge of what he needed so desperately.

Raul complied, increasing his pace, lengthening his strokes, snapping his hips to send them both into a blissful state of oblivion.

* * * *

Outside the cloakroom, sipping a whiskey and hoping to hell passersby didn't heard the grunts and moans, Cristiano waited for his brother.

Why he looked after the selfish, horny little bastard was beyond him. It wasn't as if Fabio could possibly be blind enough to think Raul Meireles wanted anything more from him than a tight hole to shove his cock in.

 

A/N - I am actually a little proud of myself here- I did some actual research into the causes of WW I. I don’t claim this all to be completely historically accurate, but better than usual!

Chapter 12

 

Fabio reported to Jose’s office in Whitehall as ordered the following morning. He’d actually not been out late, well for him, as Raul couldn’t stay. He too was working this season, in his father’s office. However, when Fabio suggested they try to meet up, Raul was evasive.

“We have debates tomorrow on the floor of the House,” Jose told Fabio as he handed him the news paper. “The situation in the Balkans is getting out of hand.”

Fabio took the paper and wondered vaguely where the Balkans were.

“You need to read the newspaper cover to cover every day. I’m going to need briefings on them. Do you speak any other languages? French? German? Russian?”

Fabio frowned. “I had French at school.”

“Good, then you can read the French paper as well,” Jose handed him another paper. “We’re headed toward war whether anyone wants to admit it or not.”

War? Fabio wondered. Weren’t wars things of the past? Stuff that happened in Africa?

“I’ll give you a couple of hours to look those over, just a summary is all I need. You can write it out or if you want to attempt that gadget,” Jose waved his hands at a typewriter, that Fabio only recognized because someone had given his father one.

Jose walked out and Fabio looked at the papers in his hands, and realized the ink had smudged on his new grey trousers. 

Great.

* * * *

Iker and Sergio had been invited to visit friends and Cesc languished in the library with a book in his hand, bored to death.

“Can I go riding?” he asked his father who was immersed in the paper. Raul didn’t participate in politics himself, but his brother did and knew that the situation on the continent would be all he’d want to talk about tonight.

“I’m sorry Cesc, we decided not to bring the horses up with us. May tonight you can see if Uncle Luis will let you ride theirs.”

Cesc sighed. “Why can’t I go out with Sergio and Iker?”

Raul looked up. “Because you’re not quite old enough. Now I told you that I’d let you go to the ball at the Duke’s house next week. Let that be the end of it.”

Cesc slumped down, daring his father to tell him to straighten up, but four boys had taught Raul the value of leaving things be. He stared at the paper, unseeing for a moment, as an ache passed through his heart. Mamen would have known what to do to get Cesc out of his mood.

Carles appeared to remove the tray from tea and Cesc watched him work. His mind drifted to Bojan.

Bojan! The boy had grown up in London. Cesc sat up straight as he imagined sneaking out of the house and wandering around town. His mum used to take him on carriage rides around the park and into Westminster, but she’d never take him to the cool places, like down to the docks or across the river.

“Andy asked to confirm that there will be seven for dinner tonight?” Carles asked.

“Yes, Carles,” Raul said with a nod. “I expect our guest to arrive around eight.”

“Very good, sir.”

Carles left and Cesc sprang up.

Raul glanced at him.

“I...need...a nap before dinner,” Cesc said lamely.

Raul waved him away, quite frankly glad to have the excitable boy out of his hair for a bit.

Cesc made his way to the kitchen where he found Bojan peeling potatoes.

“Hey,” Cesc said as he looked around and saw Andy pretending not to notice him, but knowing that he was listening.

“Master Cesc!” Bojan stood quickly, dropping his paring knife.

“It’s fine,” Cesc said, a little disconcerted that Bojan was acting like this. He’d thought they’d gotten along so well the other day.

“Can I help you with something, sir?”

Cesc’s shoulders slumped. Bojan wouldn’t help him. He’d be too scared to get in trouble. “No...nothing. Sorry.”

Cesc started out of the kitchen and made his way to the stairs. It was stupid he and Bojan couldn’t be friends. Bojan was the only person his age in this house. But Cesc knew that they both had their place...

“Hey,” Bojan said, catching up to him, drying his hands on his apron. “Sorry...I couldn’t talk in front of Andy.”

Cesc grinned. “Yeah, sure.”

“What did you want?”

“Well...I was just thinking. You know London pretty well, right?”

“Sure,” Bojan said. “I lived here for years.”

“So, I was thinking that maybe some time you and I could sneak out. You know, check out the docks or something.”

“You and me?” Bojan asked. 

“Sure,” Cesc said. “It’ll be fun.”

Bojan smiled. “It would be...but...I only get Sunday afternoon’s off, and...”

“Oh,” Cesc’s face fell. Bojan had to work.

“Maybe...maybe late some night? After we’re meant to be in bed?”

“Oh!” Cesc said. “Sure! Tonight?”

“Can’t,” Bojan said. “With the dinner tonight, it’s going to be late.”

“Maybe some night when Sergio and Iker are out, and Dad and I just have a cold dinner?”

“Okay,” Bojan said. “We can decide later.”

“Awesome,” Cesc said and impulsively hugged Bojan.

Bojan grinned. This would be fun.

* * * *

Cristiano found his brother staring blankly at a French newspaper with half a sheet of notes in front of him.

“Working hard?”

Fabio started. “What? Oh....yeah.”

“Sorry, no one was out front so I let myself in.”

“Yeah, Jose went to lunch and I think the secretary is....somewhere.”

Cristiano felt for his brother. Fabio would normally just be getting up at this hour, and here he was, working. Sort of.

“What are you doing?”

“I have to read and summarize these for Jose,” Fabio said. “But I barely understood the English paper, let alone the French.” Fabio felt tears of frustration welling up, but he fought them.

Cristiano picked up the French newspaper and scanned it. “They’re arguing about a new income tax the government is trying to implement.”

Fabio looked blank. “What is an income tax?”

“Income tax,” Cristiano paused, trying to think ho to best explain it. “When the government claims a portion of your earnings.”

“Is that fair? It’s not their money.”

Cristiano blinked. “Well, no, but they use it to pay for things that everyone needs- like the roads and the army.”

“Oh. Does Britain have an income tax?”

“Yes,” Cristiano said and looked at his brother. He realized how completely unsuited to politics he was. “How much of this do you have done?”

Fabio deflated. “I gave up on the Times. He wants a full briefing this afternoon. I skipped lunch but I still don’t get it.” He shoved the paper off the desk. “Any of it.”

“Hey,” Cristiano said as he picked up the paper. “It’s a lot to wrap your head around.”

“I’m just too stupid,” Fabio said as the tears threatened again. “Why doesn’t Dad get it?”

Cristiano sat on the desk. “You’re not stupid, you’ve just never studied. He’s hoping if he throws you in the deep end, you’ll learn to swim.”

“Jose’s going to fire me by the end of the day, anyway, so what does it even matter.”

“Now,” Cristiano said. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, Jose knows that. Now, come on. Let’s go get some lunch down at the pub and I’ll talk you through this.”

“Do you have time?” Fabio asked hopefully.

“For you little brother, always.”

 

Chapter 13 

Cesc patted his hair and fiddled with the cuffs of his brand new suit and pulled a the cravat.

“Stop that,” Sergio swatted at his hands. “Fernando tied that perfectly, and I’m not fixing it for you.”

Cesc balled his hands in his lap. He’d never dressed this fine before, and, quite frankly, it was uncomfortable.

“You look good, son,” Raul said with a smile. They were all piled in the car on their way to the ball and even Sami was dressed sharper than usual in a neatly pressed suit and new hat.

Tonight was the debut of Cesc and the first time Iker and Cris would be out together as an engaged couple. A lot was riding on this evening as far as the family’s social position. Raul knew Mamen often kept a keen eye on their standing, knowing who was saying what about them, as it would help the boys secure good marriages. If Cesc behaved badly or people for the sense that either Cris or Iker wasn’t fully invested in the match, it could hurt all of their fortunes.

Iker’s stomach was in knots. He knew the eyes would all be on him. People knew of their family’s situation and if they thought him to be scheming to keep the fortunes, he’d be ostracized for sure.

Of the four, Sergio was the most relaxed. He was too young to worry about marrying and too spoiled to worry about much else.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the Knightsbridge manor the Duke lived in.

Raul stepped out first, and then the sons in order of their birth. Cesc had to force himself not to gape at the opulence. Of course their family was well to do, but the Duke was on another level of wealth.

The butler announced them at the door. Curious eyes turned to look. Cesc had never seen this many people in one place, ever.

As they entered the throng, the Duke himself came up to welcome them.

“Raul,” the gorgeous man said, leaving in to kiss his cheek. “I am so sorry for your losses. How are you?”

“We’re coping, David,” Raul said as he smiled at his old friend. “Lord Beckham, you know my sons: Iker, Sergio, and Cesc.

“Iker, congratulations on your engagement. Your gorgeous fiance is around here somewhere.”

“Thank you,” Iker said as Lord Beckham kissed his cheek. 

“Sergio,” he turned to the next son and hugged him, holding on just a little too long.

“And our youngest, Cesc,” Raul said, having to pull Cesc out from behind him.

“How is this possibly Cesc!” Lord Beckham said as he looked over the young man. “The last time I saw you, you were hiding behind your mother’s skirts!”

Cesc flushed. Of course he remembered Lord Beckham, how could you not, but he was unable to believe the man remembered him. No one talked to children and the attention was intoxicating.

“There you are,” Cristiano said as he arrived with a warm smile and embraced Iker tightly. It was too much for an engaged couple in a public space such as this, but it was a perfectly calculated move. It was the exact thing people needed to remove their doubts about the match.

“How are you?” Iker said as he beamed with pleasure. Yes. He and Cristiano had made the right decision.

“I’m well. Do forgive me, Lord Bernabeu,” Cristiano said with a twinkle in his eye. “Lord Beckham.”

“We’ll forgive you this once,” Lord Beckham said.

They chatted and Cesc lost focus as he looked around. The people were dazzling, all dressed in their finest. The women sparkled with jewels.

Raul noticed his son was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Shall we find you a dancing partner, Cesc?”

“Dancing,” Cesc nearly squeaked. They had, of course, had lesson at school, but he’d never gotten a chance to use anything he’d learned.

“Come on, Cesc. I have a lovely niece who needs some dance partners.”

Raul nodded and Lord Beckham led Cesc away.

* * * *

Fabio was sulking. Raul was supposed to be here tonight, but he was nowhere to be found. He’d seen Jose across the room and was not trying to avoid him. He didn’t want to talk about French taxes or German weapons stock piling. He wanted to sneak off the club with Raul for some drinking and debauchery.

His eye caught sight of the familiar shimmer of Raul’s long, golden brown hair. A smiled played on his lips as he moved toward his lover. He’d not seen him in town since that first night at the club, and he was dying for another encounter. Just fall into his arms and forget everything...

But as he approached Raul, he realized the man was not alone. On his arm was a petit blonde woman and his father was stood with him.

He knew that blonde. Her father was an Earl. Just the sort of girl Raul’s father approved of.

When Raul saw Fabio a moment later, his eyes widened slightly with...fear?

“Well, Fabio, it’s so nice to see you,” Raul’s father said insincerely, but Fabio’s eyes were still locked on Raul. “You know Sophia, don’t you? Raul’s fiance?”

 

 

 

Chapter 14

Cesc was sweaty and breathless after hours of dancing. 

“Having fun?” Iker asked as he offered Cesc a cup of punch.

“So much fun!” Cesc grinned and drank the punch down.

“Father says he wants to leave in about half an hour.”

“What? No!” Cesc whined.

“Cesc,” Iker said firmly. “You know it’s not seemly for Father to be out too late so soon after Mum’s death.

Cesc knew he shouldn’t argue with that, but, “It’s not fair! I never get to go out.”

“Francesc.” Iker gave him his best glare.

Cesc screwed up his face, but didn’t say anything else. Iker pulled him close and kissed his temple. “Don’t grow up too fast on us, okay?”

“Can I dance more?”

“Three more,” Iker allowed and Cesc scampered off to find his next partner.

* * * *

Cristiano stepped on to the balcony to get some fresh air. He’d been dancing quite a bit, many times with Iker, but decorum required a variety of partners.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Cristiano turned to see Jose leaning on the railing.

“Lord Mourinho.”

“Please. Jose.”

Cristiano smiled at the handsome older man. Both his father and his uncle respected him highly. Fabio hated him, but that was understandable.

“The Duke does know how to throw a party,” Jose commented as Cristiano joined him.

“He does indeed,” Cristiano agreed. “And plans them well. Isn’t that vote on the Balkans due tomorrow?”

“Hmm,” Jose grinned with a twinkle in his eye. “You don’t think the Duke, who’s family imports wines wants us to side with France, do you?

“Never,” Cristiano said with a dead pan expression.

They shared a laugh.

“You know a lot about politics, Cristiano.”

“I studied in Paris. Politics and economics.”

“I know,” Jose said. “Which is why I was hoping you would want to be my intern.”

“I was going to,” Cristiano said. “But as I’ll be inheriting Bernabeau Hall, I’ve decided to refocus myself away from the political arena and focus on the estate.”

“That’s a shame,” Jose said. There was a pause. “So, has Fabio been reading the papers at all or have you just been telling him what to tell me.”

Cristiano turned to Jose to see how angry he was, but the brown eyes were impassive.

“He’s trying,” Cristiano said earnestly. “Every morning he sits down with the papers and goes through them. Then we go to lunch and I explain them to him.”

Jose nodded. “I see.”

“He never wanted to be in politics. When our situation changed, he was unprepared to face the reality of it. But he is trying.”

“You are a good brother to him,” Jose said as he gazed at the young man before him.

“He’s a good person, but he lacks direction,” Cristiano found himself gazing back. Attraction made him shiver despite the warm evening.

“Will you come to dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Cristiano nodded.

Jose smiled. “I look forward to it.”

* * * *

Raul took Cesc and Iker home early, but allowed Sergio to stat, promising to send Sami back with the car.

Sergio had enjoyed his share of dancing drinking and flirting, and was considering seeing if any of his friends wanted to head to the club. He’d forgotten how much fun the season in London could be.

Thinking the door lead to the dining room, Sergio inadvertently opened the door to the Duke’s study. The Duke was sat by the unlit fireplace, a glass of brandy in his hand, jacket off, collar loose.

“Oh, excuse me,” Sergio said and started to back out.

“No- please stay,” Lord Beckham rose. “I was just looking for a moment’s quiet.”

“It’s quite a party,” Sergio said as he stepped in and closed the door behind him to block out the noise.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Lord Beckham asked.

Sergio nodded. He was entranced by the older man as he moved to pour another snifter of brandy. He’d known Lord Beckham since he was a child, but always just as one of his father’s friends that he and Xabi would see when they’d spy late at night.

Now he was treating Sergio as an equal.

“I do enjoy these balls, but I think I’m getting a bit old to keep these hours.”

“You’re not old,” Sergio protested as his eyes involuntarily fell on the Duke’s perfect ass incased in fawn colored trousers.

“You’re kind,” the Duke said as he turned to offer Sergio the generously poured glass.

“Thank you, Lord Beckham.”

“Please. Call me David.”

* * * *

Cris grew concerned when he couldn’t find Fabio at the party. The two had planned to head to the club after Iker left.

His brother had probably gotten bored and gone ahead. Cris caught a cab and went to the west end club the belonged to.

It didn’t take long to find him.

“Lord Ronaldo,” the doorman met him as he walked in. “Your brother...come this way.”

There was a stab of fear in Cristiano’s heart as he followed the man to the back of the club.

Fabio was passed out in one of the private rooms, evidence he’d been sick on the front of his shirt.

“Oh, little brother,” Cristiano sighed and waved away the doorman. He crouched down in front of Fabio who was slumped over a chair.

This wasn’t normal behavior. As much as Fabio liked his drink and cards, he handled both very well for someone his age. Cristiano brushed damp hair off of his forehead.

Fabio’s eyes fluttered open. “Cris.”

Cristiano untied his cravat and used the cloth to wipe Fabio’s face. “You okay?”

Fabio’s bloodshot eyes filled with tears. “He’s engaged.”

Cristiano’s heart sank. “Oh Fabs.”

“He didn’t even tell me. He just wanted...he was just going to use me and...”

Fabio broke down and Cristiano held him close. It didn’t help to mention that Cristiano saw this coming from a mile away, because people in love never did want to be told they were acting like fools.

“Let’s get you home,” Cristiano said kindly. “You have to work tomorrow.”

“Work.” Fabio let out a bark of laugher. “Why doesn’t Mourinho just fire me and save us all the heartache?”

“Because he knows you’re trying,” Cristiano said as he helped Fabio to his feet. And Jose felt beholden to their father, and would put up with Fabio until the end of the season not to offend him.

“I’m useless and no one wants me.”

“Hush,” Cristiano said as he straightened himself. “Things will look better in the morning.”

“He’s never going to love me, is he? Not like I love him.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

 

Chapter 15

David refilled Sergio’s glass again. They’d been talking for hours about everything and nothing. Sergio was fascinated by the older man, absorbing his tales of living abroad- in Spain and even America.

When David returned with the glass, he leaned on the arm of Sergio’s chair.

“You really need to get out and see the world, Sergio,” David said in a low, intimate voice.

Sergio’s head swirled with the liquor and the scent of this man. “Where should I go?”

David toyed with a lock of Sergio’s hair. “Well first, I’d like to take you to my bed.”

Sergio’s eyes grew wide with surprise and desire. “Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight,” David breathed hot air on Sergio’s neck. “Have you had many lovers, Sergio?”

Sergio flushed. “Not really.”

“Good,” David laid a kiss on his cheek. “Because your first lesson in the art of lovemaking will be tonight.”

Sergio nodded though his heart was racing. This was his father’s friend, Lord Beckham. Surely they shouldn’t be doing this sort of thing. But even as he wondered if he should stop, go ask Iker- anyone- if this was a good idea, David’s lips found his own and Sergio was lost.

The kiss was far too brief, as David broke away, but he knew he had the young man convinced, and there was no point in wasting time. He set the glasses aside and reached for Sergio’s hand.

When they left the study, Sergio was surprised to find the house had emptied out and there was no one to see the Lord of the manor lead a willing young man up the stairs to his bedroom.

Sergio had no thought to take in his surroundings as David closed the bedroom door.

“You are intoxicating,” David whispered as he pulled Sergio close again, this time, the full lengths of their bodies coming together as their mouths met in a searing kiss.

It lasted far longer than before as David explored Sergio’s lips and mouth with gentle but firm pressure, inviting Sergio to do the same, letting him know what he liked.

David’s hands began to roam as well, caressing Sergio’s back under his jacket before carefully pushing it off.

Sergio’s hands were gripping David’s sides, and David eased them off. “Relax. We’re in no rush.”

Sergio nodded and licked his lips, enjoying the taste of David and brandy. He was willing to do whatever David wanted of him.

David pulled off Sergio’s cravat and unbuttoned his collar. Sergio’s fists balled at his sides as he tried to be patient, but his cock ached, solid in his pants.

As David pulled Sergio’s shirt free, he took a moment to enjoy the muscular chest. He leaned in and flicked his tongue across Sergio’s nipple, causing him to gasp.

David smiled to himself. The young man was so inexperienced. His reactions were so real and raw. As David worked the pebble hard nipple over, his hands reached down to cup the firm ass. Oh yes, he thought, this was going to be so good.

As Sergio began to pant, David dropped lower, seeing the distention in his pants and the damp patch where the precum had leaked.

Making quick work of Sergio’s trousers, David straightened. Sergio was flushed and needy.

“Lay on the bed,” David ordered.

Slightly disoriented, Sergio stumbled over, lying down on the bed which had already been pulled back for the Duke.

“Touch yourself,” David said as he began to disrobe himself, his heavy lidded eyes focused on Sergio.

“How...?” Sergio asked, confused.

“How do you usually touch yourself?” David asked, well aware that nineteen year old boys were very well versed in self pleasuring.

Flushing bright pink, Sergio awkwardly took ahold of his cock and gave it a few clumsy strokes, feeling the shocks radiate through him as he closed his eyes, embarrassed.

“No,” David chided as his shirt came off. “Watch me. Think about me. Imagine my hands on you.”

Sergio whimpered as his eyes feverishly sought out David again as he stood, shirtless, suspenders hanging, body sculpted and god-like.

David moved to the bedside table and produced a small jar. He opened it, and, taking Sergio’s free hand, he dipped two fingers into it. “Try this.”

With a slight frown, Sergio felt the slippery substance between his fingers and then understanding dawned. He rubbed the hand down the shaft of his cock, and let out a deep groan of pleasure as he was able to move it more quickly, with a firmer pressure.

David watched avidly as Sergio brought himself to a quick and hard orgasm, crying out as he did so, the exquisite agony making him all the more gorgeous.

When Sergio regained his senses, David was lying next to him, naked. carefully cleaning the fluids off of Sergio’s stomach and hand. Sergio burned with embarrassment.

David whispered in his ear. “That was beautiful. Thank you for that.”

“I was just...” Sergio was thinking ‘jerking-off’, but he couldn’t even speak the words for the shame.

“Shh,” David said. “You were pleasuring yourself for me. Never be ashamed as your own sexuality.”

Sergio nodded. Yes. It was okay. He was so used to fumbling encounters with embarrassed partners who you could barely look in the eye afterwards, the idea that you could enjoy without shame was new. Liberating.

He felt David’s cock pressing into his hip. Oh...shit...David didn’t cum. “Do you want me to...?” Sergio couldn’t put into words what he was offering.

“I want to fuck you,” David said as he leaned over to lay soft kisses on Sergio’s face. “Will you let me?”

“Yes,” Sergio whispered, a tinge of fear in his voice.

“Thank you,” David said as he stroked Sergio’s face. “Have you ever had a cock in your ass, Sergio?”

Sergio could have died. “No.”

“Good,” David kissed his lips softly. “I want to be your first. To show you how it can feel so perfect to be so full. So you can know how you deserve to feel pleasure.”

Sergio nodded reverently. “I trust you.”

“You can trust me,” David assured him as he played his fingers over Sergio’s chest. “I won’t hurt you, Sergio.”

David reached across Sergio and picked up the jar.

“What is that?” Sergio asked.

David handed it to Sergio to raised it to his nose and sniffed it. It smelled sweet. 

“Lubricant. A friend of mine makes it. He’s quite an expert on things that feel good.” David kissed Sergio. “Maybe I’ll introduce you to him some day.”

Sergio’s mind whirled at the thought there was a group of men who were all skilled a lovemaking.

David began to kiss Sergio more deeply, trying to push from his own mind the idea of taking Sergio to Guti. The mere idea made his cock throb.

“Roll over,” David requested, and Sergio easily complied, instinctively coming on to his knees, confirming what David had known the moment he’d arrived at his house this evening. Sergio was made for sex. He would be a good pupil indeed.

David spent a long time adoring Sergio’s round ass, kissing one lush orb before biting the other, loving the way Sergio moaned and let himself enjoy every touch, never protesting. When David licked down the crack and buried his tongue into Sergio’s virgin opening, the young man let out a low whine.

David reveled in working him open, listening to Sergio feel the delicious pleasure. David knew how good this felt: violated and worshiped all in the same moment.

Finally, David pulled back, leaving Sergio damp and wanting.

“I’m going to put my fingers in you, now,” David told him as he located the jar and dipped a generous amount on his fingers.

“Does it hurt?” Sergio asked in a small voice, his fear rising again, brown eyes wide.

“It can,” David said honestly. “But I’m going to try to make it as comfortable as possible, okay? Let me know if it’s too much.” 

Sergio nodded and he leaned down to kiss Sergio as he gently pressed one well lubricated finger into him. When Sergio didn’t tense, David added another, gently working him open and seeking out...

Sergio gasped.

David smiled against Sergio’s lips. “You like that?”

“Yes...yes...yes...oh David,” Sergio gripped at the sheets and pushed back at David’s fingers.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of you?” David kissed Sergio’s shoulder as he moved back to focus his attention on that ass.

He soon had Sergio a panting, writhing, and sweaty mess beneath him, three fingers working in and out massaging his prostate, making Sergio lose his mind.

“You ready for my cock, baby?” David asked as he slid his fingers out, leaving Sergio’s hole gaping and wanting cock.

“Yes....David...I need...”

David rubbed some more lubricant on his well trained cock which was hungry for that ass.

“Relax,” David ordered gently as he pushed the head of his cock in.

“Oh!” Sergio cried out and tightened around David. 

“Baby, relax,” David urged, fighting his need to drive inside, rubbing Sergio’s back, sweat dripping down his face.

Sergio panted and tried to do as David asked, but it was so big. It was never going to fit inside of him. He struggled to breathe, finally managing a deep, steady breath, and as he exhaled, David slid in deep.

“Oohhhh,” Sergio moaned. It was so much and it burned but he was so full. So good...

“You okay, baby?” David asked, using every ounce of self control he possessed to hold still and let Sergio adjust to the invasion.

“Yes,” Sergio moaned. “Oh god yes.”

Shakily, David pulled back a little and began slow, shallow strokes in and out of Sergio’s tight ass.

Sergio gasped and writhed as David’s cock hit him just right...right there. There was no sense of anything at all as it continued, the strokes getting longer, the pace getting quicker until Sergio felt like he was actually going to fall apart underneath David.

And then a hand wrapped around Sergio’s bobbing cock and the world exploded.

David held on to draw out Sergio’s orgasm before succumbing to his own well earned climax. He bit his lip so hard to keep from screaming he tasted the coppery blood in his mouth as he came deep into his young lover.

Sergio collapsed onto the bed and David gathered him up, holding the trembling mess he’d made.

David murmured sweet words of praise as he fought the urge to fall asleep.

When Sergio’s breath slowed, David reluctantly pulled away. “As much as I’d love to wake up tomorrow morning with you in my arms, I don’t want to explain to your father why you spent the night with me.”

Sergio yawned and rolled over to look at David. His father. “He never needs to know about any of this.”

David kissed him lightly, glad there was understanding. “I hope we can do this again soon. There is so much I can teach you.”

“Please,” Sergio said. “I want to learn.”

“I’ll show you everything.”

 

Chapter 16

All of the staff were gathered for the morning meal before the house awoke, and Sami sat with his breakfast in front of him, yawning.

“How late were they out?” Mesut asked as he poured Sami a cup of coffee.

“Lord Bernabeu came home about one with Iker and Cesc, and I went back for Sergio, and he was there until half past five.”

“Why?” Mesut asked, eyes wide.

Gerard patted Mesut on the top of the head. “If you don’t know, we can’t explain it to you.”

Fernando froze with a piece of toast half way to his mouth.

Mesut flushed.

Gerard looked down the table to see that Carles was occupied and leaned in. “So...who was it do you reckon?”

Sami grinned. “I was the last car waiting.”

“Lord Beckham?” Gerard asked with a whistle. “He doesn’t go half in, does he?”

“They might have just been talking!” Mesut tried.

“Trust me,” Sami said. “He reeked of sex.”

Fernando suddenly pushed back from the table so quickly his chair crashed over.

Everyone started at him, and Fernando stuttered, “I feel...sick...”

He ran up the back stairs and barely made it to the servant’s bathroom before throwing up his breakfast.

Sliding to the floor, Fernando didn’t even realize he was crying until the wetness dripped from his cheeks.

It was awhile before Fernando could process the pain he was feeling enough to figure out who he was the most angry with.

And it wasn’t Sergio.

How could he have been so stupid? Sergio had never promised him anything. He was the fool with the wild dreams. The one who had let Sergio use him for sex while secretly hoping it meant more than it really did.

Of course Sergio, beautiful Sergio, wanted Lord Beckham rather than a low born house maid.

“Nando?” Juan appeared in the door and seeing the state of Fernando, knelt down quickly. “What’s wrong?”

Fernando covered his eyes, trying to hide his shame. “I feel sick.”

“Let me help you to bed,” Juan fussed.

“I should clean this up,” Fernando said, dazed.

“I’ll get it. Let’s get you to bed.” Juan gently helped Fernando to his feet and led him to the bedroom they shared. He got Fernando out of his soiled jacket and shirt, and tucked him into bed.

As Juan smoothed the hair on Fernando’s forehead, he whispered, “If he doesn’t want you, he’s a fool.”

* * * *

 

Chapter 17

The parliament were fools if they were ignoring Russia at this point, Fabio mused as he scribbled some notes onto his paper, not even noticing that his hand was covered in ink from both the paper and his notes. Everyone was so worried about Germany and France right now, that they were going to regret it.

“Fabio?”

“Oh, hello Jose,” Fabio looked up from his desk.

“It’s nine in the morning.”

“Oh, yeah,” Fabio said running his hand through his hair, leaving a smudge on his forehead.

Jose blinked for a moment. Something had happened about a week ago and Fabio’s entire demeanor had changed. He arrived earlier, took shorter lunches, and had accompanied Jose to the parliament two nights ago, taking careful notes.

“Have you see this article on Russia? We really ought to firm up our alliances there.”

“I agree.”

“France is a good ally to have, but let’s face it, Germany and the Austria-Hungary Empire are just going run them over. Are we in talks with the Americans at all?”

“Yes,” Jose said. “They’re keen to stay out of this if they can.”

“Hmm,” Fabio said. “They do realize they can’t just hide out on their continent any more and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist, right?”

“Indeed.” Jose moved to sit on the edge of Fabio’s desk and looked over the pages of notes Fabio had compiled already. “What do you think about Serbia?”

“Something is going to explode there. Those people are unhappy.”

“Fabio, I’m going to take you to lunch with me today. We’re going to the club with Sir Edward Grey.”

Fabio started. Lord Grey was the most powerful politician in London- even more so than the Prime Minister.

“Yes, sir.”

“You might want to go home and put on a clean shirt,” Jose said as he saw the ink stains on Fabio’s cuffs.

“Yes sir. Let me finish this report.”

“Very well,” Jose said and left the office with a smile. He had no idea what had lit a fire under Fabio, but he was certainly grateful for it. He went to his office to write a note to his old friend Luis. Maybe he would drop by his office a little later and tell him in person.

* * * *

“Bored.”

Iker glanced at Cesc. “We went shopping yesterday. I thought you bought a new book.”

“It’s boring.”

“Cesc,” Iker sighed. 

“Why can’t I go OUT,” Cesc complained. “At home I’m allowed to go out on my own!”

“This is London,” Iker said. “You could easily get lost.”

“You could pin our address in the front of my coat and if I get lost I could have a cab bring me home,” Cesc said sarcastically.

“I was going to offer to take you to the park for a stroll, but I think I’ll have a lie down,” Iker shot back and got up from his chair. He was at another party tonight with Cris, and the hectic social schedule was wearing him out. Quite frankly he wished he had time to be as bored as the boy.

“Didn’t want to go to the stupid park anyway,” Cesc muttered as Iker departed.

Raul stuck his head in the door. “Cesc, I’ve just had an invitation to dinner tonight with some old friends.”

Cesc perked up.

“You’ll be okay here on your own?”

Cesc slid down again. “Just fantastic.”

* * * *

Jose walked into Luis’s office and smiled charmingly at Luis’s secretary.

“Lord Figo is in his office, Lord Mourinho,” the pretty blonde said, flushing under Jose’s stare. “You can go right in.”   
Jose stepped into Luis’s office and found Cristiano sitting behind the desk.

“Cristiano,” he said with a pleased smile. “The secretary said your father was in.”

“He was. He just stepped out for a minute. Can I help you with something?” Cristiano asked, rising.

“Please sit,” Jose said, waving him down. He took the chair across the desk. “I enjoyed our dinner last week. I was hoping we could do it again soon.”

Cristiano had to look away. He’d enjoyed the dinner as well. Too much, to be honest. Jose was charming and witty, never mind utterly gorgeous. “I’m terribly busy these days, I’m afraid. Iker and I have been invited to just about every house in London, I believe.”

“How is your lovely fiance?” Jose asked, reading the torment on Cristiano’s face. He knew the young man cared for Iker, and that the match would be a solid one. There was no reason to speak against it. But he also knew that a passionate young man like Cristiano could get restless in a quiet marriage like they would have. Cristiano was made for London, for the city and the politics, and the ever changing ways. 

“He’s well, thank you.”

“Good,” Jose said. “Do tell your father I stopped in. I just wanted to mention that Fabio has been doing an excellent job. He’s really improved and he even impressed Lord Grey at lunch today.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Cristiano said, his smile genuine. He’d been convinced that Fabio would fall into a depression, but his brother had surprised him with his determination.

Jose rose. “I suppose if the only way to have you to dinner again is to invite you and your fiance over, I will have to do that.”

Cristiano’s breath caught. “When?”

“I’ll have to consult my diary. But do look for the invitation. I’m not going to take no for an answer.”

* * * *

Carles brought Cesc his dinner on a tray. “Andy made you your favorite. Beef and mashed potatoes. He even didn’t bother with vegetables.”

“Thanks,” Cesc said as he looked at the tray. It was his favorite. There were even extra onions on the beef.

“Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?”

“No. Thank you, Carles, you can go,” Cesc said as he picked up the fork. The rest of the family was out and Cesc was alone. As Carles stepped out of the bed room, Cesc had half a mind to beg him to stay and talk to him at least. But he knew the very proper butler would be scandalized at the notion.

Cesc would have sulked and refused to eat, except the smell of the beef was making his mouth water and he shoveled a forkful of the deliciously tender beef into his mouth. Besides, what good was a hunger strike if there was no one to witness it?

After he cleaned his plate, Cesc rang the bell for more. Usually his dad frowned when he packed away his dinners, but Cesc was hungry just about all the time.

Bojan appeared. “Yes, sir?”

“Bojan!” Cesc grinned. 

Bojan grinned back. “Did you need something.”

“Is there more dinner?”

“I think so, sir? Or would you like dessert?”

“Dessert,” Cesc decided. A marvelous idea occurred to Cesc. “Hey, will you be done early tonight?”

“I just have to finish the dishes,” Bojan nodded. 

“Do you think...?” Cesc glanced around, “Could we sneak out tonight?”

Bojan bit his lip. “I’m allowed to go out if I ask permission from Carles.”

“Oh,” Cesc said. “But I could sneak out and come with you? We could meet around the corner so if I get caught I could say it was just me and you won’t get in trouble?”

“Okay!” Bojan said. “But...”

“What?”

“Your clothes,” Bojan said. “You can’t go out like that, everyone will know you’re gentry.”

“So?”

“So...they’ll try to rob you.”

“Oh!” Cesc said, his eyes wide. “Do you have something I could borrow?”

“I might,” Bojan said, thinking of his ratty set of spare clothes. He could give Cesc his better clothes and wear the spare ones.

“How about you bring up my dessert and the clothes, and we’ll meet at the corner at eleven?”

“Done.”

 

Chapter 18

 

Cesc pulled on Bojan's clothes and giggled to think his father and brothers would have a fit if they saw him in these. It was far more comfortable than the clothes he'd worn to the ball. What good were expensive clothes if they made you itch?

As soon as Fernando came to check on him that he was in bed, Cesc slipped out down the back stairs and on to the street. Without looking back, he wound his way around to the corner where he'd agreed to meet Bojan.

The streets were dark and quiet, lit by the soft glow of the electric street lamps. Cesc's eyes adjusted to the dark, and he peered around. It was like a different world out here after dark.

Bojan arrived, looking nervous.

"You ready?" Cesc asked.

Bojan nodded with a grin. 

"I brought some money," Cesc said, pulling a couple of coins out of his pocket. 

Bojan's eyes got wide. That was more money than he made in a month. "Careful with that. If people know you have money, they'll rob you!"

Cesc frowned. "People really would?"

"Oh Cesc," Bojan said. "Where we're headed, there are some scary people!"

Cesc's grin returned. "Good. I'm sick and tired of being safe."

* * * *

Iker's eyes glazed over as the men discussed the politics in Serbia. Apparently some Duke had been murdered. Ferdinand somebody.

Cristiano disengaged from the discussions and came to sit next to Iker. "Alright?"

Iker nodded. "I'm just not much on politics."

A frown creased Cristiano's face. "There's a real possibility of war."

"War?" Iker asked. "Not with France again, surely?"

"No," Cristiano said. "With Germany and Austria."

"Oh," Iker said. "What did they do?"

"Cris, they're calling a special session of parliament," Luis said as he joined them. "Are you coming?"

"Of course," Cristiano said as he set down his drink. "Iker?"

"You go ahead," Iker said. "I think Dad was sending Sami to collect me soon, anyway."

"If you're sure?"

"Of course."

"Don't worry," said Lord Higuain. "I'll keep track of Iker while the two of you are away."

* * * *

Sergio sat at the club, across the table from David who was smoking a cigar and laughing with some of the older members of the club who Sergio only vaguely knew. Sat next to him was his cousin Fabio, who was fairly sober and cleaning up that evening.

"So," Sergio said as he pulled his eyes off of David. "Are you still seeing Raul?"

Fabio stiffened. "Raul is engaged."

"Oh, man," Sergio said with a sympathetic look. "What a bastard."

Fabio shrugged. "I knew better. His father is far too important for him to be fucking around with someone like me."

Sergio could practically taste the bitterness in his cousin's tone. "Never mind him. How about someone new?"

"I can't stay late," Fabio said.

"Are you really working for Lord Mourinho?" Sergio asked as a foot trailed up the back of his calf. Sergio's breath caught, but he managed to keep a straight face focused on his cousin as David caressed him.

"I am," Fabio said. "This political stuff is pretty interesting once you know what they're talking about."

"You're welcome to it," Sergio told him as the cards were dealt out again.

Fabio shrugged. "With Cris inheriting the Hall, Father wants me to take over the seat in Parliament some day. He and I talked about me enrolling in Oxford in the fall."

"Really?" Sergio asked, never much having considered higher education himself. His father had sent Iker and Xabi, but when Sergio had turned eighteen, he'd managed to duck the issue.

David's foot lifted higher, and Sergio found himself with the older man's foot at his crotch. Sergio's attention faltered as he bid far too high on the cards he had in front of him. He probably should have folded.

"Well, what are you going to do with your life?"

"Now you sound like my...FATHER."

Everyone in the table looked up as Sergio squeaked, a foot massaging his cock under the table.

"Pass," Sergio said as his face flushed.

A smile passed over David's face that no one but Sergio saw.

* * * *

Cesc would never admit it, but he was hopelessly lost as he followed Bojan through the dark streets of London. At first, he could keep his eyes on the tower of Big Ben, but after awhile, even when he glanced back over his shoulder, he didn't see the famous edifice any more.

So he keep his eyes forward, soaking in everything that Bojan pointed out. They were walking along the south bank of the river, and the space was crowded with factories and docks. 

"My mum was born over here," Bojan pointed out a run down looking old pub. "Her dad owned that place."

"Is it still open?" Cesc peered at the run down building.

"No," Bojan shook his head. "It closed after my grandpa died."

Cesc scurried around a pile of horse dung. After treading in a pile of it earlier, he'd learn to keep half his attention on the ground before him. This area of London reeked.

"Come on, let's cross the river," Bojan gestured. 

Cesc looked up and saw the massive Tower Bridge ahead of them. "Holy shit."

Bojan chuckled. "You've never seen the Tower Bridge before?"

Cesc shook his head. "We never come this far down the river."

"My mum's brothers died building it," Bojan said. "He was an apprentice stone mason."

"Wow," Cesc said, suitably impressed.

They walked across and Cesc got caught up staring at the boats on the river. He loved to be in boats, but his father abhorred them, and they never got to go. Maybe some day he'd have his own boat on the Thames and he'd sail all the way to the ocean!

Bojan descended a set of stairs at the end of the bridge and Cesc realized they were on the docks at the south bank.

"This is Southwark," Bojan told him. "This is where I grew up."

"Cool," Cesc said and Bojan laughed.

"Cool? I couldn't wait to get out of here!"

"Well, sure," Cesc said. "Don't we all want to get away from where we're from?"

"I guess so," Bojan said. "But if I'd grown up in Bernabeu Hall, I'd never leave it."

"I suppose it smells better than this," Cesc allowed.

As they scampered along, they didn't notice that they were being followed.

* * * *

Lord Higuain, who Iker was never sure exactly how old the man was, poured him a drink at the bar. He had the idea he was about Iker's age, but he seemed older. More worldly. Iker knew his father had died fighting in the Boer War in Africa, and Gonzalo had inherited the title young.

"There is nothing so tedious as an evening of politics," he said as he offered Iker the glass.

"You seemed to be involved in the conversation," Iker said and took a drink.

"You have to be," Gonzalo shrugged. "Though pretty much if you say the French are fools for underestimating the Germans, you don't really have to hold an actual opinion on the subject."

Iker laughed. "Sound advice, Lord Higuain."

"Please call me Gonzalo. Your brother and I were at school together, after all."

"That's right," Iker said, having forgotten. "He spoke highly of you."

Gonzalo nodded. "Such a terrible loss."

Iker nodded, a lump rising in his throat. "It's been hard on all of us."

"It must have been especially hard on you," Gonzalo said as he leaned a little closer to Iker. "Going from the carefree younger brother to suddenly engaged to help hold your whole family together."

"We do what we must," Iker said, unable to meet the chocolate brown eyes of Gonzalo.

"Do you love him?"

Iker looked up, offended. "What kind of a question is that?"

Gonzalo shrugged. "I just think it's a shame that a young man like you has to give up the chance of ever being in love for the good of his family."

Iker stood. "Cris is a good man and we will make the best of this."

"So that's all Iker gets? Making do?"

"What business is this of yours, anyway?" Iker was angry. How dare he? How dare he question Iker's honor. "Some of us don't get the luxury of being selfish."

"There's nothing selfish in wanting to be loved."

Unbidden, tears sprang to Iker's eyes. "I will have the love of my family."

"But not your husband?"

* * * *

"So, what's going on with you and Lord Beckham?"

Sergio, just about to take a drink of his whiskey, nearly spat across the room. "What?"

Fabio grinned, realizing he was right. "You and Lord Beckham. You turn red every time he looks at you."

They were stood at the bar, and Sergio pulled Fabio back into a corner. "It's...nothing."

"Bullshit," Fabio said, enjoying the discomfort of his cousin as only a cousin could. "Just flirting, or is there actually fucking going on?"

Sergio turned even pinker. Was there fucking? That was the understatement of the year. Sergio had met with David three times in the past week, every time experiencing new and wonderful things with the older man. Even the hours they were apart, Sergio was consumed with thoughts of his lover.

"I'll take that as a yes to the fucking."

"You can't tell anyone."

Fabio rolled his eyes. "Why would I need to tell anyone? It's all over your face whenever you look at him. So is he good?"

Sergio sighed. "Fabio, you can't even imagine."

"I can imagine a lot."

"No- not...not like this," Sergio insisted. "Last night...last night he tied me to the bed."

Fabio gaped, the mocking gone from his demeanor. "Really?"

Sergio nodded. 

"You...you liked that?"

"Oh, god, Fabio, you have no idea," Sergio said. "And...he's spanked me."

"Holy shit," Fabio said. "And..."

Sergio grinned. "You need to try it."

"I think so!" Fabio laughed. "So...does Lord Beckham have friends?"

"I thought you had to work tomorrow," Sergio teased.

"Screw work!"

"Sergio?"

David had approached the pair, and they moved apart like naughty school boys. "David."

"Sergio, I told your father I wouldn't have you out too late, shall we retire?"

"Yes, Lord Beckham," Sergio said. 

Fabio gave him a pleading look, but Sergio just finished his drink. He would have to bring up the idea of finding a...lover for Fabio when they were alone.

"Fabio, good to see you," Lord Beckham said with a nod.

"Good night," Fabio said with a pout as the two men walked away.

He wanted to play too, dammit.

* * * *

Cesc looked around a corner as Bojan moved ahead. There was music coming from somewhere and he wanted to investigate. As he opened his mouth to call out to his friend, a cloth was clamped across his face, and he struggled for a moment, sucking in a sickly sweet smelling breath and then fell limp.

"Cesc?" Bojan turned and didn't see his friend behind him. "CESC?"

He ran back to the alleyway where he'd last seen Cesc, but the boy was no where to be found.

Panic seized Bojan. "CESC!"

But there was no answer.

 

Chapter 19

Bojan searched for an hour, but Cesc was nowhere to be found. In a panic, he decided he needed help, and ran, full tilt, all the way back to the house. He slammed in the back door which Carles had left unlocked for him, and straight up to Carles's room.

"CARLES!"

The butler, disoriented, sat up with a shout. "WHAT?"

"It's Cesc!"

"What?" Carles pushed his tangle of hair out of his face and looked at the boy, tears streaming down his face. "What's happened?"

The story tumbled out of Bojan- about their plan to sneak out and then Cesc disappearing.

"How long ago was this?" Carles asked, his brain whirling as he got out of bed and began to dress.

"I don't know? An hour or more?" Bojan wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Should we call the police?"

"No," Carles said firmly. "Do you have any idea the scandal this could cause? What were you even thinking agreeing to take him out?"

"I don't know," Bojan said as he started to cry again. "I didn't think there was any harm in it! Am I going to be fired?"

Carles sighed and pulled Bojan to him. Holding him tight, he said, "Let's just focus on finding Cesc right now."

"Is Lord Bernabeu home?"

"No," Carles said. "Iker just got in, but Lord Raul said to not wait for him." He handed Bojan a handkerchief to wipe his nose.

They made their way downstairs and Carles knocked on Iker's door.

"Come."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but Lord Cesc has gone missing."

"Missing?" Iker said. He'd been sat at his writing desk, composing a letter. "What do you mean, missing?"

Bojan flinched at his tone. "He and I went out for a walk and...he disappeared."

"He got lost?" Iker tried to clarify.

Bojan's face crumpled. "I think he was taken."

"Taken?" Iker demanded. "By whom?"

"I don't know," Bojan said with a choked sob.

Iker closed his eyes and took a breath. Yelling at the boy would do no good right now. "Carles, wake the staff. Send Mesut to collect Lord Raul- he's just two streets over. Have Sami get the car ready. Also, send Fernando to Lord Beckahm's house- he should find Sergio there. Gerard, Juan, you, and I will go to where Bojan last saw Cesc and search."

Carles nodded, his well trained mind absorbing all these orders easily. 

Iker cursed the fact that his father hadn't gotten a telephone installed in their London home yet. He pushed down his panic that something had happened to Cesc. There may be a ransom demand if whoever took the boy knew who he was, but that Cesc was out so rarely, it wasn't likely he'd be known. A stab of fear shot through his heart as he imagined what could become of a pretty young boy like Cesc in a place like that.

* * * *

Cesc opened his eyes, disoriented. His head throbbed and his closed them again. He was lying on a bed in a strange room.

"Well, hello sleeping beauty."

Cesc's eyes widened as he looked at the man in front of him. A tall, lanky blonde wearing nothing more than leather trousers. His skin was decorated with a number of tattoos, and Cesc couldn't help but stare.

The corner of the blonde's mouth quirked up. "You are a quiet thing. Head hurt?"

Cesc nodded. 

The blonde handed over a glass. "Drink this. It will help." He sat on the edge of the bed and toyed with Cesc's curls. 

Cesc eyed him for a moment before looking around the room. It was a bedroom with a large bed decorated in red. 

"My assistant was a bit over exuberant. I told him to bring me a pretty boy, but I assumed he'd bring a willing one, not an unconscious one."

"Where am I?"

"It speaks," the blonde gave him a smile. "This is my...house."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Jose Maria. But you can call me Guti."

* * * *

"Where was he taken?" Raul demanded on Carles as he stormed into the house, black evening cape swinging.

"In Southwark, my lord."

"Iker already left?"

"They're just getting ready."

"IKER!" Raul called walking through the house and out the back to where the garage was. 

"Father," Iker said, his face lined with worry. "We were going to go look..."

"No," Raul waved his hand. "We can't go storming down there in a pack. Whoever has Cesc will see us coming. No...no..." Raul knew who he needed to go see. Who he'd only just learned this evening was back in London. Who would know.

"We have to do something!" Iker begged.

"I'm going alone."

"Father!"

"Don't argue with me Iker. Sami?"

The driver nodded and started the car.

"You all stay here," Raul ordered.

Helplessly, Iker stood and watched them drive away.

* * * *

Fernando knocked on the door of Lord Beckham's house, half hoping no one would answer and he wouldn't have to see first hand what he already knew was going on.

You don't care, Fernando told himself as he waited. It was a pointless fantasy, and you don't care.

The door opened. "Yes?"

"I am sorry to disturb you at this hour," Fernando said to the disgruntled looking butler. "But we've had a bit of an emergency and we need Lord Sergio home at once."

The butler eyed him for a moment. "Come in."

Fernando stepped into the opulent entryway, but came no further. 

"I'll fetch him," the butler said and climbed the stairs.

Fernando's hands clenched as he tried not to imagine the state of Sergio when he emerged. "He reeked of sex," Sami had said. 

But Sergio came down the stairs only a few moments later, looking perfectly put together, concern on his face. "Fernando. What is it?"

"It's your brother Cesc. He's gone missing. Your brother is going to look for him, but has asked that you come home."

Sergio nodded. "Did you bring the car?"

"No," Fernando shook his head. 

"I'll ask Lord Beckham's driver to take us. Wait for me," Sergio said and bounded up the stairs again.

Cesc! What had that boy gone and done, Sergio fumed as he returned to Lord Beckham's bed chamber.

"Everything alright?" David asked.

"My brother is missing. Cesc. I need to get home. Can I use your car?"

"I'll drive you," David offered. "Has he run off?"

"I don't know," Sergio said as he and David made their way back down the stairs.

As Sergio caught sight of Fernando again, he saw the longing on the blonde servant's face, and a stab of guilt went through him. Fernando.

"Lord Beckham is going to drive us," Sergio said, unable to look Fernando in the eye. It was just sex, his mind tried to rationalize. Surely Fernando had known that.

Sergio could feel Fernando following them at a respectful distance. You treated him like a toy...a game...could he seduce the help.

No! It hadn't been like that. He cared about Fernando, but surely he realized it couldn't be anything between them.

"Are you okay, Sergio?" David asked.

"Fine...just...worried about Cesc," Sergio lied.

It was just sex. Like with David. That didn't mean anything, did it?

It was fine. Sex was sex. Anyone who thought it was more was deluding themselves.

But when Fernando climbed into the back of the car, Sergio caught a glimpse of the pain in Fernando's eyes, and he knew he was lying to himself.

* * * *

"Do you have a name?" Guti asked as he took the empty glass from Cesc.

"Cesc."

Guti grinned. "Sex?"

"CESC," he repeated as his face flushed red.

Guti chuckled as caressed his cheek. "Maybe your name should be Sex. You look like you'd be good at it."

"I'm sixteen!" Cesc squeaked as Guti pinched his cheek.

"So?" Guti said. "I lost my virginity at fourteen. You'll well past due."

"Are you going to rape me?" Cesc asked as his eyes welled up with tears.

Guti frowned. "No. No, Cesc, no." He laid a soft kiss on the top of Cesc's head. "I promise you I won't hurt you."

"I wanna go home," Cesc said as fat tears ran down his cheeks.

"Oh dear," Guti sighed. There would be no seducing this one. It was a shame. He was such a pretty boy. Guti's cock ached for a pretty boy. "Where is home, then?"

"Near Hyde Park," Cesc whimpered.

"Hyde Park?" Guti froze. He'd assumed this boy lived near by, given the state of his dress, but when Guti looked at him now, he realized that the clean cut boy was indeed better bread than Southwark. "Who is your father?"

"Lord Raul of Bernabeu."

"Oh fuck..." Guti groaned. "FUCK! PEPE!"

Cesc winced as Guti's shouts pierced his already throbbing head.

"Yes?"

A beast of a man with a bald head entered the room. Cesc scrunched down.

"Pepe! Where did you get this boy?"

"Down by the docks, like I said."

"Were you down at the docks?" Guti asked Cesc who nodded.

"I told you!"

"Shut up," Guti growled, trying to think. Fucking Pepe would bring him the son of an Earl. Not just any Earl, either.

Raul.

"Guti!"

Simao, Guti's assistant pushed past Pepe and came into the room. 

"There's a gentleman here to see you and he..."

But before Simao could finish, Raul came storming in, and stopped short when he saw Cesc lying on the bed with Guti.

"DADDY!" Cesc cried out and ran to him, throwing himself at his father who embraced him tightly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Cesc said, his face buried in his father's coat.

Raul turned his gaze on Guti who had stood, and forced himself to remain impassive at the sight of the man who he loved...had loved...so much.

"Guti, you want to explain to me what you're doing with my son?"

 

 

Chapter 20

This was not exactly how Guti had thought their reunion might go. When he’d heard Raul’s wife had died, Guti had thought that maybe, at last, he and Raul could be together again. And Raul has to find him trying to seduce his own son for fuck’s sake. “Pepe found him wandering alone on the docks. He brought him here for his safety.”

Raul gazed at Guti, knowing full well the man’s appetites, having taken part in them on more then one occasion in the past. “So you brought him up to your bed?”

Cesc whimpered and Raul stroked his back.

“It wasn’t...” Guti began, but he was cut off.

“Daddy, I wanna go home.”

“Shh,” Raul said. “We’ll go now.” He froze Guti in place with a stare. “Good evening.”

Guti could only stare helplessly as Raul ushered his son out. As the footsteps retreated, Guti turned on Pepe, his anger flaring. 

Punching Pepe in the jaw, he roared, “Next time you decide to kidnap someone, fucking make sure it’s not the goddamn son of an Earl!”

* * * *

Iker was pacing up and back the sitting room. Sergio would have told him to sit down, but he knew Iker would just snap at him.

How could Cesc be so stupid, Sergio thought. To go wandering out to the rough parts of town in the middle of the night? He was asking for trouble.

“We should really do more to help entertain Cesc,” Iker said, of course shouldering the blame on himself. 

“He’s sixteen - he doesn’t need entertained!”

“We treat him like a child!” Iker said. “So if we want him to be a child, then he needs friends to play with. We expect him to be an adult and then lock him up in the house while we all go out!”

“We all weren’t allowed out socially until we were seventeen- eighteen for you and Xabi!”

“You had Cesc still at home,” Iker countered. “The two of you would sit in the attic and play for hours. Now you’re off doing god knows what and Cesc has no one!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sergio asked.

Iker paused, looking at his brother. Did Sergio seriously think that Iker didn’t know what he’d been doing with Lord Beckham? Sergio wasn’t even subtle about it. Hell, the servants were gossiping about it.

The front door opened. Iker ran to it and found a blessedly intact Cesc walking through.

“Oh thank you god,” Iker said as he embraced his little brother tightly. “Oh, baby, are you okay?”

Cesc hugged him. “I’m fine, Iker, I’m fine.”

Sergio stood behind Iker, his wet eyes meeting those of his father’s. “Where was he?”

“In a sex club.”

“A WHAT?” Iker roared, causing Cesc to flinch.

Raul sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it. Cesc- up to bed. Iker, can you ring Fernando to help him?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Iker said as he let go of Cesc only long enough for Sergio to give him a hug as well.

“Don’t scare us like this ever again, you little shit,” Sergio said as only a brother can.

A face peered around the corner. Cesc saw Bojan and pulled away from Iker.

“Bo!”

“Cesc!” Bojan ran up. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have taken you there!”

The boys hugged.

“It’s not your fault,” Cesc said, and then he quickly turned to his dad. “It’s not his fault, Dad. I made him take me. He didn’t want to.”

Bojan flushed with shame as that was not entirely true. “I’m sorry, Lord Bernabeu.”

“We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“No!” Cesc said. “You have to promise me that Bo isn’t going to get fired. You can’t do that. It’s not his fault. If you fire him he has to go back to that place and...Dad!”

Raul sighed. “No one is getting fired, Cesc.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Cesc nodded firmly. “It’s okay, Bo. It was my fault.”

Bojan nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Iker smiled at Cesc as he guided him up the stairs. He was a good person.

* * * *

Andy was boiling water to send tea upstairs when Bojan came back down. 

“So, when are you leaving?”

“I’m not getting fired!” Bojan said, smug.

“You’re not?” Gerard raised an eyebrow.

“Cesc told Lord Bernabeu it was his idea and not to fire me.”

Carles’s shoulder’s relaxed. He knew the Lord to be a fair man, but what Cesc and Bojan had done was stupid. And when your child is in danger, you do stupid things some times. 

“Well, he may have forgiven you, but I have not. You are not leaving this house for a month, and tomorrow you are cleaning every chandelier in this house!” Carles barked.

Bojan bit his lip. “Yes sir.”

“Now get to bed!”


	3. Chapters 21-30

Chapter 21

 

“I am so glad your brother is safe,” said Lord Higuain as he stepped in to the sitting room. 

Iker rose to greet him with a smile. “Thank you. He’s shaken up and I don’t think he’ll be trying anything like that ever again.”

“Did he run away?” Gonzalo asked with a frown.

“Oh, no,” Iker shook his head. “Just off for an adventure. He’s far too spoiled to run away.”

Gonzalo chuckled as he sat. Gerard poured tea for them both.

“Mostly he gets bored. Father doesn’t let him go out on his own, and the rest of us have been rather busy.”

“We should take him out. Do you know they have a lovely exhibition at the Kew Gardens? Would he like something like that?”

“I think he would,” Iker said with a smile. 

“Then it’s settled. Will tomorrow work?”

“I believe it will,” Iker agreed. “You’re very kind to look after us.”

“It will be a pleasure. I’ve meant to see it myself.” Gonzalo sipped his tea and regarded Iker. “I have to say, I’m a little surprised your fiance is not here.”

Iker looked down at his cup. “I sent a note to him this morning letting him know of the situation, but I’ve not heard from him.”

“I’m sure he’s busy with political things. And Cesc is fine,” Gonzalo said with a sympathetic nod. But he knew full well it was completely unacceptable for Cristiano to have not at least sent a note. Iker was his fiance and this family was as his own.

* * * *

Guti paced the lounge. It was early afternoon and the place was quiet. The people who came to his club did so under the shadows of night. Guti knew sex amongst willing adults was nothing to be ashamed of, but everyone had their level of comfort. And society was unforgiving.

Which was why he’d left this club to the care of others for years, living in Ibiza where people were far more liberal about sex.

But when he’d heard about Mamen, Guti had been on the next boat to England. But he’d not been able to make it that last leg of the journey to Raul’s doorstep.

He didn’t know what to say. What could you say? Mamen had been such a wonderful wife and mother. Raul had adored her. The boys adored her. Hell, Guti had adored her.

“Guti, darling, why are you pouting?” A blonde woman stuck her head in the lounge. 

“I’m not pouting,” Guti glared.

“You are,” the woman stepped into the lounge and wrapped her arms around him. “Go and see him.”

“Lola...” Guti sighed and pulled away.

“Jose Maria,” Lola returned. “You need to see him. He needs you.”

“I fucking tried to seduce his kid last night!”

“You didn’t know it was his kid, and you didn’t even touch the boy!” Lola said. “Besides. When his son went missing- who was the first person he came to see?”

Guti sighed. “You didn’t see his face, Lola. He’s never forgiving me for that.”

“You don’t KNOW that,” Lola begged. “You have to try.”

“He won’t talk to me!”

“Either talk to him or fuck off back to Ibiza,” Lola snapped, “because I’m not having you moping around my club.”

“It’s not your club, love. It’s my club,” Guti said as he had to suppress a grin. Lola was so easy to wind up. “And Lord Beckham is coming tonight with his new toy, so do makes sure his room is ready.”

“You can go fuck yourself,” Lola told him and stormed out.

* * * * 

“This is insane. We must take action!” Cristiano roared as he stomped around Jose’s office. 

“Cristiano, calm yourself,” Jose said as the young man paced.

“Surely we don’t want to get involved in this if it comes to war,” Fabio countered.

“If?” Cristiano asked. “If? Brother, this is war. We must step up. We must get involved.”

“We will have no choice,” Jose agreed.

Fabio bowed his head. They were all exhausted after the late night session of parliament, and the discussions had continued through the night at the club. No one was interested in card. Fabio wanted to sleep and not think about war. 

He didn’t want to imagine war coming to England. Cristiano was already prepared to sign up. Fabio didn’t want to go to war.

“Sir, there’s a message for Lord Ronaldo,” Jose’s secretary stuck her head in the office.

“Thank you,” Jose said as Cristiano took the missive. When he opened and scanned it, his heart sank.

“What is it?” Fabio asked.

“It’s Cesc. Iker’s brother. He went missing last night.”

“Is he okay?” Fabio demanded. Cesc could be an annoying kid, but he was his cousin.

“He was found safe, but...” Cristiano trailed off short of swearing. He should have been there for Iker.

“You should go at once,” Jose nodded. 

“I’ll come,” Fabio said. “If that’s okay?”

“Go, see to your family.”

* * * *

“Well, I suppose I should go,” Gonzalo said as he rose. It was nearly seven.

“You could stay for dinner,” Iker offered. “Father decided to have the family stay home tonight.”

“Mostly to keep me in line,” Cesc said with a cheeky grin. The boy seemed none the worse for the wear for his experience.

“Yes, you should be with your family,” Gonzalo said. “I shall call for you in the morning at ten?”

“Yes please!” Cesc chirped.

Iker nodded. “That will be fine.”

As he showed Gonzalo to the door, the bell rang. Carles appeared, but Iker had already reached to open it.

“Iker!” Cristiano said, his face full of concern. 

Iker stepped back to let Cristiano in the foyer. “Cristiano.”

“Is everyone okay? I’ve just heard.”

“I sent word this morning,” Iker said, voice stiff, eyes on the wall behind Cristiano.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Gonzalo said as he put on his hat.

“Of course,” Iker said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good evening,” Gonzalo said, a smile playing on his lips.

Fabio watched the man leave with a distrustful frown. “What was he doing here?”

“He came to check on the family,” Iker said. “He was worried about Cesc.”

“I came as soon as I heard,” Cristiano reiterated. “We’ve had a busy twenty four hours what with war coming!”

“I see,” Iker said, unforgiving. “Shall we go through to the sitting room? I’m afraid we’re just about to get ready for dinner so we can’t talk long.”

Cristiano gaped at Iker- the over the top formality from him cutting through him like a knife. “Is Cesc okay?”

Cesc was fidgeting in his chair, the angry voicing having come through to him. “I’m fine. Just fine!”

Fabio moved to sit next to Cesc, not even sure where to look as Iker and Cristiano shot daggers at each other. “You look well.”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

Iker sat, but Cristiano continued to stand, incredulous that Iker was so angry with him. “Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was assassinated by Serbian rebels last night!”

Iker’s cold gaze fell on Cristiano. “My brother was kidnapped. We were terrified he would be harmed.”

“I’M FINE!” Cesc desperately announced, and Fabio took his hand.

“Cesc, why don’t you show me the library. Your father has a book I wanted to borrow.”

“I’m fine,” Cesc whined, but willingly let Fabio guide him out of the room.

“I came as soon as I heard, fuck, Iker, what else do you want from me?”

There were a million things Iker wanted to say, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to forgive Cristiano. Cristiano could so easily end this engagement and then where would he be? How could he be sure Cesc would be looked after if they had no money?

“It’s fine,” Iker said. “Everyone is fine. No harm done. Did you want to stay for dinner? You and Fabio?”

Cristiano watched Iker’s dead eyes focus on him and he wanted to cry. He had wanted to be here. He hated that he wasn’t, but why couldn’t Iker see that he had other things to see to?

“Iker. You know I...”

“You would have been here if you could have,” Iker said. “Father will want to hear about the developments with Austria. He’s been asleep most of the day. Do stay.”

“Fabio and I have to get back to the office,” Cristiano said, his voice gone as flat as Iker’s.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do let us know when we can expect you again. Hopefully these matters can be resolved quickly.”

“I hope so.”

 

Chapter 22

 

Sergio was nervous as the car took them through the dark streets of an unfamiliar area of London. David reached over and took his hand.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” David promised, reading the young man’s apprehensions. “And you never, ever have to do anything you don’t want.”

Sergio nodded. “I want to try new things.”

“Good. Because we’ll take care of you.”

The care pulled to a stop in front of a rather well appointed house despite the unsavory neighborhood. At the door stood a man who scared Sergio a bit.

“Pepe,” David greeted the beast of a man. “How are you?”

“Very good, Lord Beckham,” Pepe said and gave Sergio a wolfish grin as he opened the front door of the house.

Sergio’s heart pounded. Was that the kind of person who was here? Maybe this was all a mistake.

But David squeezed his hand. “Pepe is all bark. He’s actually very sweet.”

They stepped in to the parlor of the house, and Sergio found himself in a large sitting room which was dimly lit. There were people lounging on couches, an assortment of men and women, a few of them kissing, but nothing particularly untoward.

Okay, so yes, in proper society it would be scandalous, but Sergio had been expecting far worse.

“Lord Beckham. We haven’t seen you for ages.”

Sergio saw a gorgeous blonde woman rise from a couch and couldn’t take his eyes off her as she crossed the room. Her bosom was threatening to explode from her red velvet dress.

“Lola, dear,” David said and kissed her on both cheeks, and Sergio nearly died when the woman grabbed David’s ass. “This is Sergio.”

“Oooh,” Lola’s eyes lit up as she got a good look at Sergio. “My heavens, David, he is as luscious as you said.” She ran her finders down Sergio’s arm, but was too well practiced in dealing with inexperienced lovers to push him.

Sergio couldn’t even meet her eye. He looked down and caught himself staring at her cleavage.

“I like him,” David said as he kissed Sergio’s flushed cheek.

“Guti is upstairs,” Lola told them. “And he needs cheering.”

“What does Guti have to be sad about?” David wondered with a cheeky grin.

“No idea,” replied Lola. “Sergio here will certainly make him smile.”

David led Sergio across the room, nodding to a few people, but Sergio’s eyes never left David’s back.

They climbed a set of stairs at the back of the house, and found themselves in a long corridor lined with doors. Sergio could hear sounds of sex coming from behind several of the doors.

“Is this a brothel?”

“No,” David said quietly. “No one here is paid for sex. Members pay an annual fee to belong, and everyone who comes here is a free, willing participant.”

“I had no idea places like this existed,” Sergio whispered.

“Few people do. And we prefer it that way.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Sergio vowed.

David turned and kissed him. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t believe you could be discreet.”

“Well,” Sergio said, remembering his conversation with Fabio. “I did tell my cousin.”

“Cristiano?”

“No,” Sergio shook his head with a laugh. “Fabio.”

“Mmm,” David said as he knocked on the door. “We may have to have him over as well.”

“Come.”

David opened the door and Sergio peered in. Lying on the bed was a man in leather pants that made Sergio’s jaw drop.

The man grinned. “Hi.”

“Guti, this is Sergio,” David said, rolling his eyes as he pulled Sergio into the room.

“Hi Sergio,” Guti licked his lips.

“Behave,” David laughed as Guti slid off the bed. “Lola said you were in a bad mood.”

“What does Lola know?” Guti asked with a little pout. In truth, he had been, but the sight of David and Sergio had cheered him dramatically.

“He’s not for you,” David reminded Guti as he moved close to Sergio and looked him over.

“You should learn to share,” Guti said as he laid a hand on Sergio’s hip and pulled him close. “You wanna play with me, don’t you, Sergio?”

Sergio broke out into a sweat as his heart rate increased. But before he could offerer to drop to his knees and offer to blow Guti then and there, David pushed between them.

“That’s it. I’m going to have to spank you, aren’t I?”

Guti flashed David a wide grin. “Have I been bad?”

“You are incorrigible.”

David pulled Sergio away from Guti and back out into the hall. Stunned and seriously turned on at watching the play between those two. He didn’t entirely understand the lines that were allowed and not allowed to be crossed, but it all seemed to be understood.

Several doors down, David led him into a smaller room. Sergio’s eyes immediately found the array of riding crops, paddles, and other items lined up on a rack on the wall. 

Guti had followed and was fondling Sergio’s ass. 

“Guti!” David admonished when he noticed.

Sergio giggled, breathless, heart pounding.

“Get on the bed,” David said, pushing him gently as he grabbed Guti’s arm. 

Sergio moved toward it, nearly tripping on the carpet as he tried to watch. David twisted Guti’s arm behind his back and kissed him fiercely, asserting his dominance. “Naked. Now.”

Guti grinned wickedly as David let him go. He settled his eyes on Sergio as he moved to untie the form fitting leather pants. 

“You look at me,” David growled and wrenched Guti’s chin to face him.

Guti’s defiance was clear, and a Sergio realized, totally for show. Guti’s eyes flicked to Sergio again, as if to say ‘watch what I can do to him’.

Sergio squirmed. Fuck. This was. Fuck.

Guti slid down his pants to reveal a delicious cock which was semi hard.

“Sergio, darling, take your clothes off,” David said, as sweet to the young man as he was rough with Guti.

Sergio quickly did as he was told. Though he struggled as he watched David bend Guti over the oddest piece of furniture Sergio had ever seen. There was a platform Guti knelt on, and then a bar he bent over and a grip for his hands. The result was Guti perfectly splayed out with his ass in the air.

As Sergio stared, David tied a rope around Guti’s hands and secured him.

Guti moaned as the bonds were tightened. 

David turned to Sergio who was only half out of his pants.

“If you can’t behave, you’re next,” David said quietly, with the slightest edge of menace. 

The pants flew off, but Sergio wondered if he’d ever have the nerve to defy David as Guti did. And maybe he’d like the consequences.

David moved to him. “Hands.”

Sergio offered them up and as David drug them over his head, he realized that attached to the headboard were a pair of iron shackles. He whimpered slightly as David snapped the cold metal around his wrists.

David caressed his side. “I know you want to be a good boy, but Guti can be very seductive.”

“I’ll be good,” Sergio promised with wide eyes.

“Who do you love?”

“You David.”

“Who will you obey?”

“You David, only you,” Sergio panted his hips wriggling as he willed his lover to touch him more. See to his hardening cock.

“Good boy,” David said, and abandoned Sergio with no further touches.

Sergio whimpered, but bit his lip. Good boy. He was going to be a good boy.

David, fully dressed with two naked men at his mercy, moved to select an instrument. Sergio twisted to look, but he couldn’t see much. His eyes settled on Guti’s ass which was facing him.

With a leather riding crop in his hand, David moved back into Sergio’s view.

“So I suppose you’re never going to learn, are you?” David said as he ran the crop over Guti’s ass.

“You think you have anything to teach me?” Guti asked with a purr.

There was a crack as David connected the crop with Guti’s ass. Sergio watched in fascination at the bright red mark it left. He’d felt the sting of David’s hand himself, which left him deliciously sore, but it was nothing like that.

Guti hissed. 

“How to keep your mouth shut?” David asked as he laid another mark on Guti’s pale flesh.

“You love my mouth.”

*CRACK*

Guti groaned. “You want it on your cock right now.”

*CRACK*

“The only part of you feeling my cock tonight is your ass.”

“If you must,” Guti said.

*CRACK*

Sergio writhed as he watched. Guti teased and David punished, the blows raining down. Sergio thought surely he would draw blood, but David was an expert with the crop, and hit hard enough to punish, never hard enough to break skin. His cock ached. He needed release.

But as Sergio turned his body, trying to get some friction on the sheets, David caught him.

“Do. Not.”

Sergio whined. “I just...David....”

“No one brings you release but me.”

Sergio nodded and moaned. He just needed a little, just a little. 

He was only half aware as David used the lubricant to finger Guti open as he continued to rain blows on his ass and thighs. He wanted David to touch him. To fuck him. To make him come.

David fucked Guti roughly, leaving the man tied as he rammed his cock into him, making him beg.

“Harder, David, harder!”

Sergio moaned along with Guti. “David!”

With a roar, David came in Guti’s ass, as Guti groaned at the sensation. 

“David,” Guti whimpered.

Panting, David released Guti’s hands, and pulled the man loose. Unsteady and rock hard, Guti slid to the floor. David used a lube slick hand to jerk Guti to a completion.

“Oh...god....”

David smiled and nuzzled Guti’s neck as his lover rode out the high. He glanced over and saw Sergio suffer.

“You better finish him,” Guti sighed.

“He’s been a very good boy.” David pushed himself off the floor and moved to the bed. “Such a good boy.

“David,” Sergio pleaded, eyes feverish with need.

David settled in between Sergio’s lush thighs. He gazed up at the begging young man and closed his mouth over his cock. 

“Ohhhhhh,” Sergio moaned and a rush filled David’s mouth. With a smile, he swallowed.

Guti sighed again. “Lovely.”

There was a discreet knock on the door.

With a glare, Guti looked to it. “Who the fuck...?”

David frowned as well. Who would bother them?

Guti dragged on his pants and moved to open it as David pulled a sheet over Sergio and himself. He reached up to release the shackles and snuggled next to Sergio who’d gone limp.

It was Lola.

“The fucking world better be ending,” Guti growled.

“It might be,” Lola said as she resisted the urge to peek. “Lord Bernabeu is here.”

Guti groaned.

Sergio’s eyes fluttered open. “How does my father know I’m here?”

There was a long beat. Guti swung around and looked at David.

“What?”

David had the decency to look away. “Did I forget to mention Sergio is Raul’s son?”

Guti closed his eyes. “You are fucking kidding me! Raul fucking shows up yesterday and finds his baby boy in my bed and now you’ve got another of his sons chained to a bed and covered in cum?”

It was an exaggeration, but David didn’t dispute it. 

“Wait, Cesc was here?” Sergio demanded, having recovered himself. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” Guti said. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“He’s in your room,” Lola interjected. “And he’s impatient.”

Guti was just grateful he’d let David take control of the evening. And he hadn’t touched Sergio.

“David. Get him out of here. Don’t ever bring him here again.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” David muttered as he moved to find his clothes. “You two have been over for years.”

Guti shot him a glare. “You know better than I do. Raul and I are never over.”

 

Chapter 23

Raul was sitting in a red velvet chair when Guti arrived, brushing back his hair.  He looked considerably calmer than he did the night before.

"Raul," Guti said with a smile.  Please let him give me another change, please give me a chance to quit fucking up with his sons.

"Guti," Raul said and rose.  He moved to Guti and kissed his cheek.  "You smell of sex."

"Don't I always?"

"Mmm," Raul said and supressed a smile.

Guti's heart buoyed.  Yes. Raul still loved him.  "I was so sorry to hear about Mamen and your son."

Raul's features clouded over briefly.  "Thank you.  It's been a hard time for the family."

Guti perched on his bed as Raul sat again.  "And last night...with Cesc.  God, I'm sorry about that, as well."

Raul shook his head.  "Cesc was being a fool to be out.  I think you terrified him enough to keep him from doing something like that again."

"I scared him?" Guti asked, trying to hold back a smile.

"Cesc is used to the nursery and people who spoil him."

"Still, had I any idea it was your son, I would have brought him home at once."  And I had I known Sergio was your son, I never would have let him watch Lord Beckham fuck me.

"Thank you." Raul gazed at Guti.  "How are you, Jose Maria?"

"Me?" Guti asked.  "Oh- same old, you know."

"I was a little surprised to hear you were back," Raul said.  

Guti shrugged.  So maybe when they'd parted Guti had sworn he'd never come back to London again.  "That was a long time ago."

"Indeed it was."

Guti slid off his perch and approached Raul.  "God, I've missed you."

"I missed you too," Raul said quietly.

Guti stood in front of Raul and reached out to cup the side of his face with his hand.

"Why did you come back?"

"Why are you here?"

They looked at each other for a long moment.

Guti combed his fingers into Raul's hair.  "I thought you might need me."

"Why didn't you come to the house?"

"Because I know if you needed me you'd find me," Guti said.

Raul's eyes began to well up.  "It's been so awful," he whispered.  "I lost Mamen and I don't know how to function without her.  And then Xabi, who was level headed and such a fitting heir.  And now Iker is going to marry a man he doesn't love to hold the family together.  Sergio is getting involved in things he may regret, and Cesc.  Lord, Guti, Cesc is supposed to be my baby and he's growing up too fast."

Guti pulled Raul to him as his tears fell, his own eyes dampen as Raul began to sob.  He stroked Raul's hair and knew he'd do everything in his power to protect him.

* * * *

Sergio entered the house and was surprised to hear laughter.  Peering into the sitting room, he found Cesc and one of the kitchen boys playing cards.

"Cesc?"

"Hi Sergio!" Cesc said.  "I'm teaching Bojan to play Bridge!"

"Where's Iker?"

"He went to bed," Cesc said.  "He and Cristiano had a fight."

Sergio's eyes widened slightly at this admission in front of the staff.  It was most improper.

"Shouldn't you get to bed?"

Cesc made a face.  "I guess.  Iker's taking me to Kew Palace tomorrow!"

"I'm so jealous," Bojan said.

"I wish you could come," Cesc said wistfully.

"I'm sure Bojan has work," Sergio said pointedly.

Bojan had the decency to look ashamed.  "I do."

Cesc gathered up the cards.  "Don't be a butthead, Sergio.  Bojan's a person, too."

"He's also our staff," Sergio said.

"I should go," Bojan said with a blush and got up.

"Bojan, can you send Fernando up?"

"Of course," Bojan nodded and departed.

"Butthead," Cesc muttered.

Sergio glared.  "Father would have a fit if saw you playing cards with the kitchen maid in the sitting room."

"Father would have a fit if he knew you were going to sex clubs with Lord Beckham."

Sergio gaped.  "You little shit!"

Cesc leapt out of his chair as Sergio lunged for him.  "Be nice to me or I'll tell dad!"

Sergio chased Cesc up the stairs for good measure, but let the boy escape to his room.  How had he even known?

Sergio paused at the door to Iker's room.  He knocked quietly.

"Come."

Sergio peered in and found Iker laying face down on his bed, still in his dinner clothes, glass of whiskey tipped over on the floor.

"Iker?" Sergio asked as he closed the door behind him.  "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," Iker said with a hiccup.

Sergio frowned and picked up the glass.  "What?"

"Cristiano hates me."

"Oh, he does not," Sergio said as he set the glass on the bedside table and sat next to Iker's head.  "What happened?"

"He never came to check on Cesc, and I was upset, so I yelled at him, and then he makes me feel bad because I guess we're going to war with Serbia or something, and he was at Parliment."

"He should still make you a priority," Sergio said as he pulled Iker's head into his lap.

"He said he was sorry and I was horrible," Iker said.  "I shouldn't get upset with him.  I should let him be.  He's going to break off the engagment and then we have nothing."

"Shhh," Sergio said.  "That's ridiculous.  Have you talked to him?"

"No," Iker said.  "We never talk.  He talks politics and I don't even know what he's talking about, so I just don't say anything.  I know he thinks I'm an idiot."

"You're not.  We're just not politcal," Sergio said.  "I wouldn't know Serbia from Siberia."

Iker let out a bark of laughter.

"You just need to talk to him.  Remind him that you care for him, but that you don't know his world.  Take an interest."

Iker nodded.  "I think he's unhappy he has to be with me."

"He's not."

"No...I mean, not me, just the estate.  He doesn't want to be Lord of the Manor.  He wants to be Prime Minister."

"Oh," Sergio said.  He stood for a moment, and pulled the covers down pushing Iker under them.  He then climbed in with him, and pulled up the blankets.  

Iker settled against him.  "Remember when we were little, and some nights I'd have a bad dream and climb into Xabi's bed, and then you and Cesc would hear us whispering and come join us?"

Sergio nodded as he buried his face in Iker's curls.  "And we'd all cuddle together in that little bed, and Mum would come in and the morning and have to pry us apart."

"Cesc used to climb under my nightdress and hide," Iker said.

Sergio laughed.  "And Mum would stand there and go 'now where can Cesc be'?"

"And Cesc would giggle and give himself away."

"But Mum would pretend she couldn't hear?"

"And go get Dad to help her look for him?"

They laid together, lost in their memories.

Sergio sighed.  "Why does everything have to change?"

"With this war coming, I get the feeling that everything is going to change."

 

Chapter 24

After a fun day at Kew Palace Gardens, Iker had Sami drop Cesc off at the house on his way to see Cristiano. Cesc had a sun burn on his nose and a wide smile, clutching a packet of sweets in his hand.

He’d sent a note to Cristiano first thing in the morning to ask if they could talk, which had been quickly replied to, inviting him over for tea. Iker was hoping that things could be repaired.

Cristiano was in the library when Iker arrived. He looked up from the paper he was reading and rose with a smile.

“Thank you for coming,” Cristiano said as he rose to kiss Iker’s cheek. “And you are right. We do need to talk more.”

“I know you’re very busy with everything,” Iker said, but Cristiano waved a hand.

“Yes, but other things are important too.”

Iker nodded. “Thank you.”

“We just seem to fly from social event to social event and never really talk,” Cristiano said. “And the ordeal with Cesc...”

“That was my fault,” Iker said. “I shouldn’t have been so angry. It’s not your fault you didn’t know.”

“I know. But next time, send for me at once? I don’t suppose there is anything I could have done, but I would like to have been there, to support you if nothing else.”

“What we need is a telephone,” Iker said with a smile. But we have one at Bernabeu Hall and father things one of those contraptions is enough for a family.”

Cristiano grinned. “I suppose as close as everything is in London, they are a bit of an indulgence.” 

Cristiano rang for the tea, and they chatted companionably. Iker told Cristiano about their trip to Kew, and Cristiano helped fill Iker in on the situation abroad. Iker asked a load of questions, ad he knew so little about the politics in his own country, let alone in Austria for heaven’s sake.

“So are we to declare war?” Iker asked, worried.

“I don’t think we are going to have any choice,” Cristiano nodded. “But I do think it will be over quickly. Lord Grey thinks it will be over by Christmas.”

“Good,” Iker nodded. 

“About the war,” Cristiano said as he set down his cup of tea. “Jose thinks it will be a good idea for me to enlist.”

Iker stared at him. “Join the army?”

“With my standing, I’ll, of course, be an officer, but he thinks I need to be seen to be directly involved, so we can’t be accused of cowardice.”

“He’s not the one who will get shot at!” Iker said. 

Cristiano laid his hand on Iker’s. “Most likely I’ll see very little battle. And you know important it is to be seen to support the country.”

“You’ve already made up your mind,” Iker said, realizing he was being told out of courtesy, not being consulted.

“Iker,” Cristiano sighed. “It’s not really a decision. It’s what has to be.”

“No,” Iker stood. “You are to be Lord Bernabeu. You do not have the luxury of signing up for the war because you feel it is your patriotic duty. Father already lost one heir, we can scare afford another!”

Cristiano stood as well. “If I die, the title reverts to you!”

Iker’s heart sank. “I don’t want that...Cris....”

Cristiano instantly regretted his words. “I know. I’m sorry.” He moved to embrace Iker. “I’m sorry.”

Iker laid his head on Cristiano’s shoulder. “I just don’t understand why it has to be you.”

“I know,” Cristiano said. “But Jose is right. We must help defend this country from those who would see us destroyed.”

“I know,” Iker sighed. “Just don’t go getting yourself killed, okay?”

“I promise.”

* * * *

“Did you hear?” Bojan asked Andy as he lugged in the day’s shopping, setting a box of vegetable on the side board.

“About what?” Andy asked, examining the beans Bojan had selected. Good. He was finally learning to look out for the marked ones.

“The war!” Bojan said, his eyes wide. “They say England will declare war on Germany within the month!”

“I’m much more worried about you getting these green beans snapped for dinner,” Andy said as he picked up a chicken and moved it to the butcher’s block.

Bojan found the bowls they used and began to snap the ends off of the beans. “The recruiting offices are already being set up, and they say the draft will start soon.”

“The draft!” Andy said, his attention finally caught. “What for?”

“The. War.”

“Did they declare?” Mesut asked, sticking his head in the kitchen. He was working on the ironing in the next room over.

“Not yet,” Bojan said. 

“I think I’m going to sign up,” Bojan said.

Andy and Mesut gaped at him. “You are?”

“You most certainly are not!” Carles said as walked in with several bottles of wine he’d just retrieved from the cellar.

“What?” Bojan asked.

“If the draft comes, we are going to lose enough staff as it is; I cannot afford to have you galavanting off on me if we don’t have to lose you.”

“You’re not old enough anyway, are you, Bojan?” Mesut asked.

“I’m sixteen.”

“You have to be 18.”

“People lie all the time about their age,” Bojan pouted.

Carles sighed. “Bojan. War is rather romantic until people are trying to kill you.”

“You were in the army, weren’t you, Carles?” Mesut asked.

“I was,” Carles said. “And it was terrible. You’re lucky to have this job here and not have to join the army.”

“Don’t you want to fight for what’s right?” Bojan asked.

“I want a properly laid table,” Carles said. “Lord Cristiano is coming to dinner, so be sure to set a place.”

Carles left to decant the wine, and Bojan frowned. “He can’t stop me.”

“I don’t think I’d want to go,” Mesut fretted. “So far from home?”

Bojan shrugged. “It’d be an adventure.”

“Here’s an adventure,” Andy said and handed Bojan a bowl of potatoes. “Peel and blanch these.”

Bojan grabbed the bowl. They couldn’t stop him if he wanted to sign up. And as soon as he could get out of the house, he was going to do it.

 

Chapter 25

Luis sat at his desk, drafting a letter to an old friend of his who was now teaching law at Harvard. In the back of his mind, he knew it was disloyal to king and country, but having just written the cheque to pay for the tailoring of Cristiano’s uniforms, he was damned if they were taking another of his sons.

“Father?” Fabio stuck his head into Luis’s office. “You sent for me?”

“Yes,” Luis said as he indicated the chair across from him. He took a few moments to finish the letter before looking up at his son.

“We’ve discussed the possibility of you going to university,” Luis began.

“Well, yes,” Fabio said. “But I assumed with the war...”

“Yes,” Luis said. “Have they declared yet?”

“Not yet. But it will come within the fortnight.”

“Which is why I am sending this letter to secure you a place at Harvard for the fall term,” Luis indicated the letter in front of him.

“Harvard,” Fabio asked, wide-eyed. “Why America?”

“Because I want you safe,” Luis said bluntly. “They won’t demand your conscription of you’re studying abroad.”

“But,” Fabio thought aloud, “Why should I not enlist? I can fight!”

“It has nothing to do with what you are capable of. It has everything to do with keeping you safe.”

Fabio regarded his father who looked older these days. How had Fabio not noticed? “You don’t agree with Cristiano enlisting.”

Luis sighed. “I know Jose has filled his head with romantic ideals about war and national pride. While I don’t disagree there is need for this war, I don’t think I should have to sacrifice more than one son.”

“Do you think Cristiano is going to die?” Fabio asked quietly.

Luis saw the fear in his son’s eyes and he was the five year old boy who would run to him with tears in his blue eyes and blood on his knee. “Your brother is no fool and he will look after himself.”

Fabio nodded. “He will.”

“And you, my son, will study law and politics in America.”

* * * *

“War has been declared!” Bojan yelled as he ran into the kitchen.

Carles crossed himself. “God have mercy on our souls.”

Sami glared. “We wouldn’t need God to look after us if we didn’t go around starting foolish wars!”

“Foolish!” Bojan came up short,staring wide eyed at the driver. “It’s not foolish to declare war on people who want to hurt us!”

“Hurt you how, exactly?” Sami asked, distain in his eyes.

Bojan looked at him, dumbfounded.

“Honestly,” Sami said. “What did Germany ever do to you?”

“They’re threatening our nation!”

“And what did your nation ever do for you?”

Confusion spread across Bojan’s features. “Do for me? What do you mean?”

“You’re a kitchen maid. You grew up in slum. What did king and country ever do for you that you think you now need to go die to protect her?”

“You do it because it’s your duty,” Carles broke in. “It is not your country’s job to improve your life. But it is your job to defend your country.”

“Yes!” Bojan said. “And what’s the matter with my life!”

“You want to live you life as a servant to people who can’t even dress themselves?”

“There is nothing wrong with a life devoted to service,” Carles said, pulling himself up to his full height. “It is an honor to serve.”

“You can keep the honor,” Sami said.

“You’re a servant,” Bojan reminded him.

“I’m a servant to earn money. When I save up enough, I’m out of here.”

“You’re welcome to leave any time if you think this job is beneath you,” Carles informed him.

Sami shrugged. “It’s a job. And not a bad one. But if you think I’m going to spend my life sitting up all night outside waiting to drive our Lord home from a brothel.”

“WHAT?” Bojan squeaked.

“Watch what you say!” Carles roared. “Do not spread rumors about your master!”

Sami gave him a disdainful look. “It’s not a rumor. I’ve spent the last two nights going to the same whore house in Southwark.”

“Lord Raul?” Bojan asked. “But....Lady Mamen...”

Sami got up from the table. “I just think before you lay your life on the line for something you believe in, kid, you better figure out what you believe in.”

 

 

Chapter 26

 

Iker was moping in the lounge. Cristiano had left England that morning for France, where he was to begin serving his first tour on the front. Iker was beside himself with worry. Stupid war. 

Sergio appeared, full of sympathy. “Shall I ring for tea?”

Iker shook his head. “Carles has brought me so much tea today, I fear I might float away.”

Sergio sat next to him. “I never imagined there were problems in life that tea couldn’t solve.”

Iker gave him a smile. “Who knew?”

“Father said to tell you he’d like to return to Bernabeu Hall as soon as you’re ready.”

Iker nodded. The family was meant to have returned to Bernabeu Hall now that the season was over, but Iker had begged Raul to stay a little longer. At least until Cristiano left. “I will.”

Sergio sighed. “Can you believe Fabio has gone as well?”

“I know,” Iker said. “I never imagined that our cousin would attend university, let alone Harvard.”

“Cristiano said he’s fairly sure Luis just wanted to get him away from the war.”

“I know,” Iker said. “Father thinks it’s not a bad idea.”

“He’ll have me on a boat, shortly,” Sergio said, in an attempt to be lighthearted, but it fell flat between them.

Iker closed his eyes. “I know I should feel a sense of duty, but you’ve heard father speak about the wars.”

“I know,” Sergio took his hand. 

“Even if Cristiano comes back to me, he won’t be the same man.”

“Don’t say that,” Sergio said. “Father fought in the Boer War and he’s fine. Not everyone is damaged.”

“I...” Iker began. “I heard Cesc say to father that he wants to enlist.”

Sergio paled. “He’s a boy. He’s just a boy.”

“I know. He’s seventeen next month.”

“But they won’t take them before eighteen.” Sergio’s eyes were wide with fear. “Where does he even get these ideas?”

“I don’t know,” Iker said. “But if this war goes on...”

“Cristiano said it would be over by Christmas...”

“But if it’s not. What if there’s a draft?”

Sergio squeezed his eyes shut as he gripped Iker’s hand. “We just won’t think about it.”

* * * *

Raul lay with his head on Guti’s bare chest. Guti played in his curls, loving the feel of their softness beneath his fingers, rubbing his scalp in turn. Raul had been over nearly every evening since the first night when Raul remembered why Guti had been nearly worth leaving his family for.

“We’re going back to Bernabeu Hall,” Raul finally said.

Guti’s hand stilled. “How soon?”

Raul turned his head. “Day after tomorrow. Now that Cristiano has gone, Iker is ready to go home.”

“Home,” Guti sighed. “Am I a sap if I say home his right here in this bed, with you in my arms?”

Raul smiled. “Yes.”

Guti laughed and tugged at Raul’s hair. 

Raul grinned and leaned up for a kiss. “Come with us.”

“What?”

“Come to Bernabeu Hall,” Raul said, his brown eyes earnest. “I mean...obviously not as my lover.”

“Obviously?”

“Guti...”

“I know,” Guti said with a sigh.

“No, don’t,” Raul begged as he felt Guti pulling away from him. “You know why. You know my boys are fragile.”

“I know,” Guti said, “I know.”

“Do you?” Raul asked. 

Guti cupped Raul’s face in his hand. “I get it. Your boys come first.” He laid a soft kiss on Raul’s lips.

Raul sighed as Guti moved down his neck. “I still want you to come.”

“I already came twice,” Guti chuckled.

“Guti,” Raul laughed as he pushed Guti flat on the bed and straddled him. “To Bernabeu, you pervert.”

Guti wriggled his hips underneath Raul. “Me?”

“You,” Raul leaned forward as Guti fed his cock back up into Raul. “Mmm...”

Guti groaned as Raul settled back onto him. 

Raul took Guti’s hands and laced their fingers together. “You,” he began again. “You can say...” he leaned up and then slid back down Guti’s shaft, loose from repeated fucking. “You can say you wanted to get away from London and the war.”

Guti groaned again. “And at night?”

“What?” Raul repeated the maneuver, tightening around Guti as he did so. 

Guti gasped. 

“When you cry out in pleasure?” Raul teased as glorious pleasure crossed Guti’s face as Raul worked him.

“Yes!”

Raul leaned forward and kissed Guti. “We’ll just have to make sure your room is in a remote wing of the house.”

Their attention given over to the fucking, Raul rode Guti into a passionate oblivion.

Maybe the world was falling apart around them, but Raul felt that if he could just keep Guti close to him, he would be able to make it through.

 

Chapter 27

"They said this war would be over by Christmas!" 

Raul stormed across the hall with Guti on his heels. There was a letter in his hand and fire in his eyes.

"Raul, calm yourself."

"Calm myself!" Raul roared. "They've already got my heir being shot at my those blasted Germans and now they want my son as well!"

Raul came to his study and slammed the letter on the desk. Guti stood at the door and felt completely useless. "Maybe..."

But there was no good end to that sentence. Maybe he wouldn't get shot, gassed, or otherwise killed or maimed in the war? Guti had read the same papers Raul had. The stories coming across the channels of the atrocities of the war were enough to scare even the most patriotic of souls.

Raul leaned on his desk to compose himself. Why hadn't he thought ahead like Luis? Sent him away to university? Anywhere but the war...

There was a knock on the door.

"Come."

Carles, his face drawn with worry, stepped in. "I am sorry to disturb you, sir, but we've had some unhappy news downstairs I thought you should be aware of."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Raul said automatically. "What is it?"

"Both Fernando the maid and your valet Pepe have received their conscription notices today."

Raul sat down heavily in his chair. "Them as well?"

"I'm sorry?" Carles said.

"Sergio's been called up," Raul said as the tears welled in his eyes. He tried to fight them, but there was no use.

Carles paled. "Master Sergio?" If anyone was less suited to war than the brash, fun loving young man, Carles didn't know of them. "Can I do anything?"

Raul took a deep breath. "Can you send him to me? He doesn't know yet."

"Of course," Carles bowed his head and departed.

"Will this war tear apart my whole family?" Raul despaired and Guti went to him, being able to offer him nothing more than the comfort of his arms.

* * * *

Cristiano hunched down in the trenches, enjoying the silence. The shelling had stopped and the cries of the wounded had ceased. Cristiano didn't even stop to think any more why. He still heard it anyway, even when it was silent.

"A letter for you, sir," said the dirt streaked corporal who assisted Cristiano.

"Thank you," he said as he took the familiar paper. A smile appeared on his face for the first time that day.

"Dearest Cristiano," the letter began, and Cristiano relaxed against the earth as he imagined the voice of the writer. "I hope this letter finds you well, or at least with a dry pair of socks. Father says that when we put together another package for you, we will include fifty pair so you can have all the dry socks you need." Cristiano swallowed hard at the thought of Iker packing up a pile of socks to send, unaware that they'd become damp the minute they reached the wet of the French winter. "Cesc still hasn't forgiven us for sending several of the horses to the army to be trained. Of course his favorite jumper, Gunner, was among those we gave. Father has tried to placate him with a dog, but the only dogs to be had are the small toy pets women favor. The rest have gone into service as well. Cesc pretends he doesn't care for the small terrier Father brought him, but I've seen him playing with the dog when he thinks no one is looking, and it follows him around everywhere. As always, you have my deepest affections. Come home to us safe. Yours, Iker."

Cristiano held the paper to his heart. He missed every single thing about home. He longed for the familiar sights of the country side, and even wished he were there to listen to Cesc complain about his horses. 

"Alright, Cristiano?"

He looked up and saw Jose had joined him in the little area of their trench they called home.

"Letter from home," Cristiano said simply, and Jose nodded. 

"All good news, I hope."

"Good news," Cristiano agreed, though there wasn't much news to it. Somehow the everyday seemed far more precious.

"Just a few more weeks and you'll see them again," Jose said. "I think we've earned our break."

"Yes," Cristiano said as a shell exploded in the distance. "I dare say we have."

* * * *

Sergio lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was a coward and he knew it. He should not be this terrified at the prospect of going to war.

But he was. He rolled over and hugged the pillow to him. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to serve gloriously for king and country. He wanted to stay here, in the safety of his home. He wanted to go back six months ago where he was the lover of a rich and powerful man. Pampered with gifts and spoiled with delicious sex. When the biggest of his problems was the realization that his father’s lover owned a sex club.

Or better yet, go back a year. Back before his mother was gone. When he and Cesc still snuck to the kitchens at night to steal a treat and Carles would chase them out with far more bluster than he'd ever follow through on.

He didn't want to be a man. Why did being a man require shooting at other men? Who ever, in their right mind, thought that was as good idea?

"Sir?"

Sergio started. He'd not heard the knock or the opening of the door, but as he turned, he saw a pale Fernando framed in the doorway, his freckles stood out against his washed out skin. 

"Sir, your father asked if you wanted to come down to dinner, or if you'd like a try sent up?"

Sergio just stared at him. 

"Sir?"

"I'm sorry," he said, finally awakening from his daze. "I don't need anything, Fernando."

"If you're sure?"

"Yes."

Fernando nodded, but did not leave. "Sir..."

Sergio gazed at him. Back at the time when the dirty pleasure of seducing the maid was enough to get him going.

"I don't think being afraid is anything to be ashamed of."

Sergio frowned. "Who says I'm afraid?"

"I...well...I..." Fernando stammered, afraid he'd misspoken. "It's just...I'm terrified."

Sergio's features softened. In his own pain, he'd forgotten that his maid was going to war as well. "What a pair of soldiers we'll make."

Fernando smiled slightly. "Think we can talk them in to letting us bring up the rear?"

A smile threatened on Sergio's lips as well. "You all go on and fight the Germans, we'll just be sure everything back here is alright."

Fernando grinned. "Someone has to make sure none of the ammunition got left behind."

"Exactly." Sergio reached a hand out to Fernando and the maid came to his bedside. They clasped hands. "Are we cowards?"

Fernando shrugged. "Sami says any man who isn't afraid to go to war is a fool."

"I knew I liked Sami," Sergio said. "Promise me we'll both come home alive?"

"I promise."

 

Chapter 28

Bojan found Cesc in the library rolling a ball to his puppy who scampered after it, barely able to lift it, and wobbled back to Cesc.

"Cesc!"

"Hey Bo," Cesc said. "Look at this!" He pulled the ball from the puppy's mouth and rolled it again. Happily, the dog ran for it.

Bojan wasn't paying attention. He crouched down next to Cesc. "Cesc! I've got a friend who's going to take me into Birmingham tonight so I can enlist."

"Really?" Cesc asked, his attention now focused on Bojan. "Can I come?"

"Yes!" Bojan said. "He said that you go and sign up, and then they take you straight away to training. No one will know until it's too late!"

"Cool," Cesc nodded, knowing that his father would kill him if he even knew. Sergio had left a few days ago. While Cesc knew it could be dangerous, he just couldn't see sitting by any longer and doing nothing while the Germans tried to slaughter his countrymen.

"We'll leave at midnight. Shall I meet you out by the barn?"

"Okay," Cesc said.

"BARK!"

Cesc looked down at the dog who'd dropped the ball into his lap and was waiting for praise. He scratched it's ears. "I better leave a note. So someone knows to feed Cloe."

"You can't," Bojan said. "You know they'll come after us. You can send them a letter after we get there."

"Okay," Cesc agreed reluctantly, knowing Iker and his father would worry.

"Midnight," Bojan said and slipped out of the library.

"BARK!"

Cesc pulled the puppy into his lap. "They'll look after you, Cloe. Iker will. He'll make sure you get fed and taken for walks."

Cloe wiggled away and nosed the ball.

"No time for games," Cesc said as he got up. "I've got to pack."

* * * *

Sergio stood on the deck of the boat. The icy salt air reddened his cheeks, but Sergio could not listen to the noise of the men inside, talking and laughing like they weren't on their way to hell.

He felt completely inadequate to the task ahead. He'd been given too brief a training in how to shoot and take orders. Shooting he could handle. Wasn't he the best shot in the family when it came to hunting? Not that shooting a deer was anything close to shooting a man.

Taking orders was proving a bit harder. Sergio was an officer, a luxury afforded to him by his station. He even had a company of soldiers below him, who he was responsible for. But the Major in charge of him knew Sergio was no soldier, and barely trusted him to do anything. He frequently yelled at Sergio for the state of his company. Thankfully, the men in his charge seemed to like Sergio and despise the Major, and they did their best for him.

And he had Fernando with him. How his father had managed it, he did not know, but when he'd reported for duty, Fernando had appeared at his side, assigned to assist him in a role not really that different than when he'd been his maid.

"Sir?" Fernando appeared on deck, wrapped in a wool coat.

Sergio glanced back at him. "Yes?"

"The major wishes to speak with you."

"The major is a wanker," Sergio said with a slight grin. 

Fernando grinned back and joined him at the railing. "Well, yes, but he still wants to talk to you."

"Do you know he made a pass at me yesterday?" Sergio asked. "Suggested we could help keep each other warm in the cold nights ahead."

Fernando grimaced. "He's twice your age."

"Never mind his breath reeks," Sergio added.

"Did you politely decline?" Fernando asked mischievously.

"I told him to find someone else to suck his cock."

"Sergio!" Fernando laughed. 

"Nah," Sergio grinned. "I just told him I wasn't sure that would be appropriate."

"Ah," Fernando said.

"Besides," Sergio said as his cold hand reached for Fernando's warmer one. "If I need someone to keep me warm in the cold, I already have someone in mind."

Fernando squeezed it. "I would be happy to do that."

Sergio gazed at Fernando. "It's really a shame, you know."

"What?"

"That...you and I are from such different worlds."

Fernando nodded. "I think we'd be good together."

"I do too," Sergio said. He'd spent such a glorious summer with David. David who would always have a warm place in his heart. But David had run back to America when the war began, saying he had to look after business interests there, but Sergio knew he didn't want to go to war any more than the rest of them.

David had been good for him, Sergio had decided once the sting of his abandonment had faded. Sergio knew things about the world he'd not before, and now, at twenty, was prepared to share with an new lover.

Someone like Fernando.

"We'll be a long way from home," Sergio said. "Far enough to forget where we came from."

Fernando's heart ached with desire. "Far enough for me and you?"

Sergio nodded and leaned in, glancing behind Fernando to know they were unobserved before gently kissing his lips. 

* * * * 

Cesc lay in the dark. The clock next to his bedside was ticking quietly. The chimes rang every fifteen minutes, and at 11:45, in half an hour, he would slip out of his bed and down the stairs. He was equal parts excited and terrified. He wanted to do this. He would be brave to do this. He'd talked to Bojan for months about it, and now it was their chance.

Cesc knew it would be dangerous. He wasn't a fool, but he also knew it was excitement and adventure like he'd never known. Bojan had told him tales that he'd heard from returning soldiers down at the pub. Of the glory of battle. Cesc had listened with rapt attention, dreaming of a day that he too could fight.

He rolled over again. He didn't like leaving without telling anyone. Of course they would try to stop him, he was, after all, still seventeen, but he could leave a note, surely? They wouldn't find it until morning and Cesc and Bojan would be long gone by then. 

He'd just seen the worry on Iker and his father's face when they talked about the war. Iker's letters from Cristiano always brought him more stress than relief.

He just couldn't leave them to worry about him like that, Cesc thought as he threw back the covers. He fumbled in the dark and lit a candle. On his writing desk, he found a paper and a fountain pen. 

He scribbled a note to his father, telling them not to worry. He'd be perfectly fine. He and Bojan would look after him. Hadn't father arranged for Fernando to be as an assistant to Sergio? Sergio would have Fernando at his back, and Bojan could do the same for Cesc!

The clock chimed and Cesc folded the note. Yes. He would be just fine.

Picking up his bag, Cesc slipped out of his room and down the back stairs.

It was time for him to be a hero.

 

Chapter 29

Iker sat up in bed.

Something was wrong.

He’d not slept well since Cristiano had been assigned to the front. Sergio leaving had compounded the problem, but this...this was something worse.

He threw back his covers and went to Cesc’s room. 

The bed was empty.

“No,” Iker moaned. Even as he searched for the letter, he knew where Cesc had gone.

A plaintive whimper came from the basket next to the bed.

“Oh, he’s gone and done it, hasn’t he?” Iker asked as he scooped up the puppy. Iker found the letter on Cesc’s desk and picked it up.

Reading it confirmed his fears. “Oh Cloe,” he said as he held the puppy who whined.

Iker went back to his room, depositing Cloe on his bed while he dressed. He must have gone to Birmingham. Thankfully, the conscription office wouldn’t be open until at least eight or nine. It was four am and there was time.

Iker took Cloe out back and went to the garage. Sami slept in the apartment above it. Gratefully, Cloe peed on the grass. Cesc must have forgotten to take her out before he left. It was a miracle she’d not peed on the carpets.

Iker banged on Sami’s door. He hated to wake the driver at this hour, but Iker didn’t drive, and didn’t even know his way to Birmingham if he had to get there.

“Sir?” asked a bleary eyed Sami.

Iker was startled to look into the small flat and see Mesut, the maid, in Sami’s bed, fast asleep. 

Iker regained his composure. “I am sorry to wake you, but Cesc has gone and done something stupid.”

Sami resisted the urge to ask, again? “Give me a minute to dress.”

Iker nodded and turned back down the stairs. Cloe was sat at the bottom, having been too little to manage the steps.

“BARK.”

“Shhh,” Iker said as he picked her up again. “Don’t wake the house.” He carried her back to the main house to deposit her in the kitchen.

But the moment he closed the door, the little dog started to bark her head off. Iker sighed and picked her up again. “You want to come to find Cesc?”

Cloe licked his face.

Iker sighed and tucked her under his arm.

Sami appeared a moment later, and Iker helped him drag the garage doors open. “Cesc has gone to Birmingham to sign up for the army.

“I filled it up yesterday, so we should be good to go to get us there and back.”

Iker looked at him. It had never occurred to him to worry about gas in the car.

“Is the dog coming?” Sami gave the wiggling puppy a look.

“She won’t stop barking when I try to put her down. I don’t want to wake the house.”

Sami nodded and got the car started. Iker climbed in the back, not waiting for Sami to open the door. Cloe wiggled down on to the seat and ran across, propping her feet up on the window sill, nose pressed against the glass.

“How did he get to Birmingham?” Sami asked as they headed down the dark road.

“I don’t know,” Iker sighed as he leaned forward. “He’s nothing if not resourceful.”

Sami wondered if Bojan had helped, or even gone with him, but he didn’t want to get the boy in trouble by mentioning it.

“You would think he would see what Sergio getting called up has done to the family,” Sami said, “If you don’t mind my saying, sir.”

“No, you’re right,” Iker sighed. “Father has been a mess. Thank god for Guti keeping his spirits up.”

Sami stared at the road ahead, going as fast as he dared. He wondered if Iker knew Guti’s past, or how Raul had explained to Cesc why Guti was living with them now, but then again, maybe Cesc didn’t question things like that.

The car fell silent as they drove on. Cloe gave up on the window as there wasn’t much to see in the dark and fell asleep in Iker’s lap. Iker stroked her ears. They had to do something to help with the war effort. Something other than sending family members off to get shot at. Something to get Cesc involved, but safely at home.

“Sami, can you think of anything that we might do at the house to help with the war effort?”

Sami was silent for a moment. “You know I’m not the biggest fan of the war.”

Iker chuckled. “I think we all know how you feel.”

That surprised Sami. He didn’t think any of the family paid much mind to the staff at all.

“None of us much care for it either, but we can’t pretend it’s not going on,” Iker said. “And Cesc needs to feel useful.”

“The hospitals are over run,” Sami said. “They have a lot of men recovering, not ready to go home or back to the war, but not really needing much more than nursing care. Perhaps the Hall could be used to convalesce soldiers.”

Iker considered this. “That would be a terrible imposition on the family.”

“You have four people living there,” Sami said.

“Plus the staff,” Iker reminded him.

“But you’re down there, as well,” Sami said. “And maybe one could move out with me. Free up some more space for nurses and maybe a doctor. Set up beds in the hall. We could easily house two dozen.”

“But where will the family live? Eat?”

“Sir,” Sami said. “Do you know I grew up in a single room flat with my mum, dad, and four siblings? My dad used to go to the pub in the evenings for some peace and quiet.”

Iker stared. “I didn’t know that.”

“And I don’t mean to complain- I had a good childhood. My parents always made sure we were fed and clothed, but to say that you and your family could not cope for a few months restricted to your upstairs sitting room to make room for men who have been injured in the war...”

Iker sighed. He did have a point. 

“And sir. Heaven forbid that anything happen to Lord Cristiano or Lord Sergio, but wouldn’t you like to think that someone would open their home to care for them if they could?”

“Sami, you should be a politician,” Iker said as the point hit home.

“That is my aspiration, sir.”

“You have my vote,” Iker said as they reached the outskirts of Birmingham. 

They found the conscription office with the help of a police man, and Sami pulled to a stop in front. The sun was just coming up as Iker jumped out, leaving Cloe barking on the seat. The city was waking up, and Iker asked a few people on the streets where someone intent on signing up might be staying, but to no avail. He eventually returned to the car and climbed into the front seat with Sami who was now holding the puppy.

“He’ll be here,” Sami said as Cloe jumped on Iker.

Cloe whined.

“You hungry?” he asked the little dog.

“BARK.”

“Can you go get us something?” Iker asked Sami. “Maybe at that pub over there?” He reached into his pocked for some coins.

“Sure,” Sami said as he got out of the car. 

There was a small crowd that had formed around the office, waiting for it to open. Iker’s eyes never stopped scanning the road, but it was Cloe who spotted Cesc.

“BARK!”

Iker followed the little dog’s gaze and saw Cesc with a pack on his shoulder, hat pulled down over his eyes.

Iker lept from the car. “CESC!”

Cesc’s eyes went wide. “Iker!”

“What in the HELL do you think you’re doing! You are seventeen years old!”

There were some grumbled in the crowd. “Leave him alone, mate. Boy has a right to sign up.”

But Iker ignored them as he reached Cesc. Grabbing his arm he said, “Father is going to be beside himself when he hears about this!”

“Iker,” Cesc whined, but his protests were weak. Over the sleepless night he’d had a lot of time to consider what he was about to do, and the sight of Iker filled him with relief.

Iker dragged him to the car where Cloe waited. Sami had just arrived back with a sack full of sausage rolls.

Without protest, Cesc let himself be bundled into the car where he accepted Cloe into his lap. Sami wordlessly handed Iker the breakfast. Over Iker’s shoulder, Sami spied Bojan in the crowd, hiding behind a larger man, his eyes wide with fear.

A moment passed between them, Bojan eyes pleading with Sami to say nothing.

In disgust, Sami turned away and got into the car. Cesc was looking out the window at Bojan as well, but the boy disappeared back into the crowd.

Sami wondered if they’d ever see him again.

 

Chapter 30

 

“A hospital?” Raul asked, incredulous.

“It’s a great idea!” Cesc spoke up in defense of Iker, who’d just outlined the plan. With the help of Sami, Iker had contacted the local hospital and they were thrilled with the idea.

“This is our home!” Raul protested.

Guti sat to the side observing as Raul’s two sons pleaded with him.

“Father, they are desperate for space,” Iker reiterated. “It wouldn’t properly be a hospital anyway, just a convalescent home. Men who need to rest and recover.”

“Where would we put them?” Raul asked, consternation on his face.

“Here, in the sitting room, the library...”

“My library!” Raul roared.

“Father,” Cesc said with a mature calm Iker had never seen in the boy. “This is a war. We cannot sit by.”

Raul turned to Guti for help. “Lola wants to do the same thing to the club.”

“Turn the club into a hospital?” Raul gaped at Guti.

Guti shrugged. “A lot of the members at at the war anyway, and those remaining in London haven’t been coming much. If we turn the property over to the state for the duration of the war, we’ll do quite well, actually. And we’ll get it back after.”

“Father,” Cesc said as he reached for Raul’s hand. “Mummy would have wanted us to do this.”

Raul sighed in defeat. “Yes. She would have.”

* * * *

Mesut carried his trunk up the stairs to Sami’s flat. “I cannot believe Carles is allowing this,” Mesut giggled as he walked in. Sami was finishing setting up a second bed which both of them knew would rarely be used.

“They need your room for some of the nurses,” Sami grinned and moved in to kiss Mesut. “Besides, Carles is so flustered by the changes, I don’t think he realizes he agreed to it”

Mesut set down his trunk and moved to properly embrace Sami. “Do you think Carles is okay?”

Sami sighed into Mesut’s shoulder. “No, but you know Carles, he’s not one to let on he’s upset.”

“Ever since Bojan enlisted, he’s seemed so lost,” Mesut said as Sami nuzzled his neck.

“He’s worried about him, as we all are.”

“At least he wrote before he was shipped out. He’s in Lord Cristiano’s battalion and Lord Iker wrote to him to ask him to look after him.”

Sami didn’t say what he was thinking: not even the heir of Bernabeu could save the boy from fate. He stroked Mesut’s hair, forcing himself not to take things further right now. Mesut had to get back to helping in the house, and he was due to go pick up the doctor who was going to run the facility.

But just holding Mesut brought Sami peace. It was ironic, really. It had all started one evening just after Fernando and Pepe had been drafted. He’d found Mesut in a corner of the pantry, sobbing his eyes out. Sami had managed to calm him with hugs and soft words. Mesut was terrified of the war both for himself and his friends. Sami had collected him up and brought him back to his flat. A cup of tea turned into kisses and then more. And when Sami had awoken at dawn the next morning with Mesut in his arms, Sami had felt more contented than he had in maybe his whole life.

“I need to get back,” Mesut sighed.

“I know,” Sami kissed his cheek. “But tonight, you are mine.”

“I’m always yours, Sami,” Mesut said with a wide grin as he pulled away.

Sami grinned back. “Of course you are.”

* * * *

Carles was directing the removal of furniture from the sitting room. “BE CAREFUL WITH THAT,” he roared at Gerard who knocked an antique table into the door jam.

Gerard rolled his eyes at Carles’s back as he carried the table up the stairs. All of the spare furniture was being removed to the attic as a lorry was due to arrive that afternoon with beds for the patients. Luncheon had been served in the upstairs sitting room, much to the dismay of Carles who believed that the only meal to be eaten outside the dining room was breakfast unless one was ill.

Iker was hovering as well, helping Carles decide what was to go and what could stay. Juan was wrapping his mother’s porcelain figures carefully and Mesut rolled up the Persian carpet. They were down to bare bones on their staff and Iker had even found himself helping remove a sofa.

Raul was in his room. He’d allowed the project, but made no secret of being unhappy with the upheaval to their home. Guti did his best to keep his spirits up, but even he had been chased away that morning, and had gone, with Cesc to post letters. Cesc had quickly warmed to the charming man after their not so ideal first introduction.

“What time is the doctor arriving?” Juan asked as the last of the figurines was packed away and Mesut lugged the crate out of the room.

“He’s on the four-thirty train,” Carles told him as he handed Juan the broom to sweep the bare wood floors. “Is his room ready?”

“Yes,” Juan said. “Mesut finished it this morning. And the nurse’s rooms.”

“Gerard will see to him, if he requires it,” Carles told Iker.

“I don’t suppose we’ll be having too many formal dinners,” Iker said. 

“Do you know when your father wants dinner this evening?”

“Usual time,” Iker said. “We can eat in the dining room?”

“Yes. The table has been added so the patients who are able may dine there, but there is still the family table.”

“And the nurses will dine with the servants?”

“Yes.”

“I hope the nurses are hot,” Gerard said under his breath and Juan giggled.

The front door flew open with a bang, and they all turned to see Cesc run in. “LETTERS!”

There were no class distinctions as even Carles huddled around Cesc to see who had written.

“One for Juan from Fernando,” Cesc handed it over. “One from Sergio to father. One from Sergio to Iker. One from Pepe to Juan, one from Bojan to Carles!”

Carles took the letter eagerly. Every letter home was an assurance that at least they’d been alive a week ago.

“And one from Cristiano to Iker!” Cesc chirped, having obviously left this one to last and teased Iker with it.

Iker grabbed it from him and tapped him on the head with it. “Did you have any?”

“One from Sergio,” Cesc said, not wanting to admit that he’d had one from Bojan as well. Bojan was bitterly homesick and had told Cesc that he should have gone home with him when he’d had a chance, even if he’d have gotten in trouble for helping Cesc run away. And he also knew Bojan was lying to Carles in his letters, telling him everything was fine. Bojan’s letter was tucked in Cesc’s shirt.

Guti sauntered in after Cesc with a package. “Carles, can you have Andy bring tea up to Lord Raul’s room?”

“He asked not to be disturbed,” Carles said, his loyalty always to the master of the house, first, and foremost.

“I know he did, but I’m going to disturb him anyway,” Guti said. “He’ll want tea.”

Carles nodded.

“Guti won’t tell me what’s in the box,” Cesc pouted as Iker was pouring over his letters.

“It’s not sweets,” Guti told him with a grin, which was, partially, a lie. There was a box of chocolates, but they were for Raul. He’d had Lola include them along with a few of his favorite things from the club. She’d been boxing things up before the place was turned over to be a hospital. Guti had invited her to come to the house, with Raul’s blessing, but she was going to stay with an aunt in Liverpool. Her exact words had been, “I don’t do sick people, darling.”

“Cristiano is coming home in a fortnight!” Iker reported happily.

“YAY!” Cesc said, forgetting Guti and running to Iker’s side.

“Bojan will be with him,” Carles said, relief evident on his face.

“YAY!” Cesc cheered again.

Iker put an arm around him. “Love you, little brother.”

The front door opened again, and everyone looked around. Everyone was here...

“Hello?”

A curly head appeared in the door, followed by a man who could only be described as tall, dark, and handsome.

“Can we help you?” Iker asked, stepping forward.

“I’m sorry,” the man smiled which only made him all the more gorgeous. Cesc gaped. “I got away from London a bit earlier than I expected and caught a ride on the lorry with the beds. I’m Dr. Esteban Granero.”

Guti licked his lips. “Welcome to Bernabeu Hall.”


	4. Chapters 31-40

Chapter 31

Cesc came down the stairs with Cloe at his heels to an unfamiliar hustle and bustle. The hospital was set up, and several nurses scurried around as Dr. Esteban barked orders at them.

"They'll be here at ten. We need to be ready. Hi Cesc."

Startled, Cesc turned to see the doctor was looking at him. "Hi."

"Don't mind us. The first patients are arriving today and we're making sure everything will be ready." Dr. Esteban gave Cesc a winning smile.

Cloe scampered up to the doctor and sniffed his shoes. "BARK!"

"Sorry," Cesc said as he bent to collect her, "Father said I was to keep her out of your way, but she hates being cooped up in my room."

Cloe set her paws up on Esteban's leg and wiggled.

"I suppose as long as she doesn't get underfoot it's alright if she comes down," Esteban said as he bent down to scratch the dog's ears. "What's her name?"

"Cloe," Cesc said as they crouched before the dog who practically vibrated with the attention she was getting.

"BARK!"

"Well hello Miss Cloe," Esteban said as he stroked her fur. "Are you the lady of the house?"

"Father calls her the princess of the palace," Cesc grinned.

"Well she is as pretty as a princess," Esteban praised. "So, Cesc, would you like to help me with the inspections?"

Cesc's eyes went wide. "Of the hospital?"

"Yes," Esteban said as the both rose. "I need to be sure that everything is ready, and as you've lived in this house I'm guessing your whole life, you should be able to tell me what's is a good place and what we may need to move."

"Okay," Cesc said even though his empty stomach reminded him he'd not had his breakfast yet. That could wait!

* * * *

"As if Dr. Esteban didn't have enough admirers," Juan chuckled as he entered the kitchen with a pile of dirty linens, "He's got Cesc and that puppy following him around like he's the Pied Piper."

"I thought Lord Guti was going to lick him when he arrived the other day," Mesut giggled as he helped Juan sort the linens for washing.

"He is rather gorgeous," Juan agreed. "I always thought doctors were creepy old men who told you to say "ahhh"."

"I might say "ahh" if he asked," Mesut grinned and he and Juan both began to laugh.

"Hey, enough you two," Andy stuck his head around the corner. "Can one of you fetch the big soup tureen from the attic?"

"We having company?" Juan wondered as he left Mesut to the washing.

"We have fifteen soldiers coming in today and they'll want to eat. How I'm expected to feed thirty people with no help is beyond me!"

"The nurses are meant to be doing the linens for the patients, certainly they'll have someone to help cook?" Mesut said as he set the water to boil for the washing.

"Not that I've heard," Andy grumbled. "All I got was a truck load of potatoes and orders to have dinner for fifteen."

"Once I set the washing on the line, I'll help," Mesut said. "And maybe Sami can too."

"Right, like Sami would lower himself to kitchen work," Andy scoffed.

"Sami's not like that!" Mesut protested, though in truth, he'd never seen Sami do anything but drive and look after the cars. But it wasn't his job. Things were different now, surely Sami would help.

"If you can get that high and mighty lad to clean potatoes, I'll be a monkey's uncle."

* * * *

Guti watched from the bedroom window as the ambulance pulled up in front of the house.

"They're here," Guti said as he turned back to Raul who was pretending to read, but Guti knew he'd been on that page all morning.

"Iker will see to them," Raul said, his eyes still on the page.

Guti gazed at him for a moment. His lover had shut off almost entirely since Sergio had left. He rarely left his room and left the running of the house to Iker and Carles. Guti was desperate to get his spirits back.

"That Doctor sure does know how to suck a cock."

Raul looked up at him. "Funny."

Guti gave him his best grin. "Well, he looks like he does, anyway."

"He's a doctor."

"Meaning?"

"I doubt he's in to much debauchery."

"Is that a challenge?" Guti asked with a wicked grin.

A smile threatened on Raul's lips. "You want to shag the doctor?"

"You know he's my type."

"Male?"

Guti crossed the room to Raul and dropped to his knees in front of Raul. "I was thinking tall dark and handsome."

Raul gave in to the smile. "Do I bore you so?"

"Never," Guti said as he laid his head in Raul's lap, forcing him to put aside the book. 

Raul stroked Guti's soft hair. "Oh Guti. You came back to me for adventure and all you get is a sad old man waiting to hear word from his son."

"No," Guti said. "I came back for you. I'm glad I can be here. I just wish there was more I could do."

"You know just having you here makes it bearable," Raul said. "You're the only one who makes me smile."

"Stop that, you know Cesc and that furry little rat are far more entertaining than me."

Raul shook his head. "I can't even look at him with out fearing of losing him as well."

"He's not eighteen for six more months," Guti reminded him. "Maybe this will be over by then."

"So they keep saying," Raul despaired. "I just want my Sergio back."

"We all do," Guti said. 

They sat in silence for a moment as the noises from downstairs filtered up. Raul wondered if there'd ever be peace at Bernabeu Hall again.

"Let's go down," Raul said at last. "See if we can do anything."

"Okay," Guti said as he sat back. 

Raul leaned down and gave him a light kiss. "Besides, if you're going to seduce this doctor, I want to watch."

Guti grinned. "There's my beloved Raul."

* * * *

"We're putting the worse cases in the hall," Iker directed a pair of soldiers who were carrying a stretcher. Iker was trying not to look at the young men going past.

Cloe scampered past, all of the people and the smells making the puppy crazy.

"Hey you," Iker scooped her up. "CESC!"

But Cesc was carrying a stretcher through to the sitting room. "Iker, can you watch her a sec?"

Iker was dumbfounded as he watched Cesc help. Not that the boy was lazy, but he never figured Cesc for this kind of thing. Cloe wiggled in his arms.

"I know, girl. He's full of surprises."

Raul and Guti appeared at the top of the stairs. "How's it going?"

"Good," Iker said. "They're nearly unloaded. Dr. Esteban is going to see them all settled."

"Ah, Lord Bernabeu," Dr. Esteban said as he walked in with a clipboard. "I haven't had a chance to thank you again for opening your home for these men. This is just the type of place they need to help them recover."

Raul was completely taken in by the charm of the man. Guti bit his lip. "Of course, Doctor. We're glad to help."

"You're so kind."

Cesc came running up. "Is that the last of them?" He collected the dog from Iker.

"One more. They're bringing him in now."

The soldiers came in with the final stretcher, and Iker looked at the man, despite himself. With a shock, he realized he knew the man.

"Pepe?”

 

Chapter 32

"You know this man?" Dr. Esteban asked as Raul and Iker approached the stretcher.

"It's Pepe- Pepe Reina. He's my valet!" Raul said as he looked down at the serene face of his trusted servant. "Is he alright?"

Dr. Esteban shook his head. "He's been unconscious since he was found. No one even knew who he was when he was brought in."

"Didn't his unit list him as missing?" Raul demanded.

Dr. Esteban sighed. "Unfortunately we've had quite a number of soldiers unaccounted for and we've just not been able to keep up."

"Sir?" asked the soldier holding one end of the stretcher. "Where shall we put him?"

"In the library," Dr. Esteban directed and the stretcher was carried away.

"His family must be notified at once," Raul said indignantly. "Ring for Carles. And Cesc! Get that dog out of here!"

Cesc jumped and made for the stairs.

While Raul asserted his authority over the house, Iker followed the stretcher into the library. He watched as Pepe was moved to the bed. To look at him, you'd think that perhaps he was just asleep, except for the bandage around his head. 

Iker took in the features. He was not used to seeing the jovial man so serene. Iker's eyes filled with tears as he thought about the times that Pepe had chased him and his brothers out of his father's dressing room, Sergio trying on their father's clothes while Cesc clomped around in oversized shoes. Pepe would threaten them with the switch, a completely empty threat as Pepe wouldn't hurt a fly. He wasn't that much older than Xabi had been.

"Do you know him?" asked a quiet voice, and Iker turned to see one of the nurses, a slight blond boy with an American accent.

"He was one of our staff," Iker said.

The boy nodded. "Do you want to sit with him? They say the sound of a familiar voice often helps those who are unconscious."

"Surely he can't hear me," Iker said even though he nodded. The nurse brought a chair and Iker sat.

"The mind is capable of things we can't even fathom," the nurse said. "I've seen men unconscious for months come around and remember things told to them."

"Really?" 

The nurse nodded.

Iker looked up at the boy. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Stuart," he replied. "The patients call me Nurse Stu."

"Thank you, Nurse Stu."

"I've got to go check the patients in the hall, but let us know if he needs anything?"

"Of course," Iker said. Nurse Stu left and Iker looked down at Pepe again. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Pepe."

There was, of course, no response, but Iker felt better thinking that Pepe might be able to hear. He reached for Pepe's hand. He couldn't help but think of the thousands of men who were wounded and killed already in this war. His mind went to Cristiano and Sergio and he felt the terror of imagining them lying like this.

He couldn't think that, he told himself. I have to believe they will be okay.

"It's all going to be alright."

* * * *

“Did you see him?” Mesut asked Andy as the staff sat at dinner that evening. The mood was subdued as Juan pushed a potato around on his plate.

Andy nodded. “It’s hard to believe it’s really him. I mean, Pepe was never still that long.”

“I know,” Juan said, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“I can’t believe they didn’t even notice he was missing!” Xavi said. “How do you not notice!”

“They say it’s awful in the trenches,” Mesut said tearfully. Sami was missing as he’d had to take Carles into town to talk to Pepe’s father. The man was old and frail, and Carles want to tell him in person.

“You’re awfully quiet, Gerard,” Xavi said as the footman stared into his tea cup.

Gerard pushed away from the table. “All we do around here is talk.”

They watched him walk away in stunned silence.

“What else are we supposed to do?” Mesut asked.

* * * *

Iker stood in the doorway and watched Pepe’s father cry over his only son.

“Pepe told me how proud his father was that he worked for us.” Raul stood behind him, his hand on Iker’s shoulder. 

“I know,” Iker said. “Pepe went to see his father every Sunday afternoon.”

“Pepe was all he has left,” Iker said. “And he’s not been getting around so well.”

Raul sighed, knowing that Pepe’s father relied on his income. “I’ve still been sending Pepe’s salary to him. Should the worst happen, I will make sure he is seen to.”

“Pepe’s got to recover,” Iker said. 

“I don’t know what we’ll do without him.”

* * * *

Gerard crept down the back stairs in search of some liquor. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stand himself.

He was such a coward. Men were going and fighting and laying their lives on the line for something they believed in and Gerard was serving soup.

Fucking Bojan had the balls to sign up and fight, and Gerard didn’t.

He found the light on in the pantry, opening the door, he saw Carles leaning against the wall, half empty bottle in his hand.

“Carles?”

Carles looked up at him through red rimmed eyes. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“What isn’t wrong?” Carles laughed humorlessly. “The house is full of wounded soldiers. One of our own lies there unconscious. I had to tell his father. Do you know the pain in a man’s eyes when you tell him his son is dying?”

Gerard crouched down in front of Carles. He took the bottle and had a long drink.

“It’s like we’re all sitting here holding our breaths, waiting to hear the news our loved ones are dead. Our sons.”

Gerard frowned. “You don’t have a son.”

Carles stared at him. “I have a son.”

“You...” Gerard looked at him and then a realization dawned on him. “Bojan.”

Carles nodded. “His mother and I split when he was very small. He never knew me as a father, and she wanted it that way. When she died suddenly, I brought him here. I didn’t think Lord Raul would let him stay as my son, so I never said.”

“Fuck,” Gerard breathed.

“What if he dies and I never get to tell him the truth.”

“He’s coming home on leave soon. You can tell him then.”

“What if it’s too late?”

Gerard shook his head. “You know Bojan. If anyone will survive this war, he will.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“He’s the best,” Carles sniffed.

Gerard knew he needed to enlist. He needed to go to war and prove himself. It was the right thing for him to do.

But for tonight, Gerard sat and put his arm around Carles. Together they drank and tried to forget the world outside.

 

Chapter 33

Cesc was scurrying around the hall, bringing newspapers to read and cups of tea to the patients. The house was busy and the nurses had more than enough work to do changing the dressings on wounds and emptying bed pans, so Cesc had found himself put to work doing the simpler tasks. More and more, he'd found himself observing when the nurses checked the stitching on wounds and was becoming familiar with the signs of fever and infection. In the afternoons, he brought down Cloe who the wounded soldiers loved, and they would tell Cesc stories of dogs they had owned.

It had been a month since the patients had arrived, and life at Bernabeu Hall had developed into an easy rhythm. Spring was in the air, and despite the war, most everyone was in good spirits.

In the library, Pepe was still lying unconscious. Raul had given his father a room at the house and he sat by his bedside every day.

"How long will he stay like that?" Iker asked Nurse Stu, having assumed that the man should have recovered by now. Or died.

"It's impossible to say," Stu said as he took Pepe's temperature and recorded it on his chart. Pepe's father had gone to take a nap at Stu's insisting. Iker had promised to stay by his side.

Cesc came by with a cup of tea. "Tea, Iker?"

"Since when did you take on servant's duties?" Iker asked with a raised eyebrow, though he readily accepted the cup.

Cesc shrugged. "Andy is swamped in the kitchen. Mesut and Juan help him as much as they can. Mesut makes the tea and brings it up, I just hand it out."

"Cesc has been an incredible help to us," Stu said. "I think he's a natural to be a nurse."

Cesc beamed. Iker frowned. A nurse?

"They need nurses," Cesc said. "Stu is one of the nurses they've brought in from America to help."

"They have a nursing school in Birmingham," Stu said.

"If you enroll, you can't be drafted," Cesc mentioned and got exactly the response he was looking for.

"Have you mentioned this to father?"

Cesc glanced at Stu, and the American hid his grin. "Not yet. I mean, I'm not sure he'd want me to just be a nurse."

"Well, if it's something you have a aptitude for," Iker said with a nod. Anything to keep Cesc out of battle. "I will mention it to him."

Juan came running in with a wide grin. "Lord Cristiano and Bojan, sir! They've arrived back in London. Lord Raul says they should be on the evening train!"

Iker closed his eyes and said a prayer of thanks. Cristiano has been due for a leave for over a month, but it kept getting delayed.

Cesc knocked over his tea as he leapt to his feet. "YAY!"

Juan was fit to burst. "Lord Raul says we will have a formal dinner this evening." It had been ages since there was a reason to celebrate in the house.

"Oh Iker!" Cesc threw his arms around his brother. 

Iker was grinning and held him. Now if only Sergio could come home as well. He tried not to think that this was only a leave, and Cristiano would go back to war. Just being able to see him well and alive would be enough for today.

"Be sure Lord Cristiano's room is ready. And tell Andy to fix something special downstairs as well? For Bojan."

"Yes my lord," Juan said with a grin and dashed off the minute Iker excused him.

"Cristiano is Iker's fiance," Cesc explain to Stu who was trying not to eavesdrop.

"How wonderful," Stu said.

"I've got to get ready," Cesc said. "Iker?"

"I promised to stay here with Pepe," Iker said. "You go ahead."

Cesc bounced away with Cloe at his heels.

"He really will make an excellent nurse," Stu told Iker after Cesc was gone. "And perhaps a doctor some day."

"You're probably right," Iker said. "I just never imagined him in a vocation."

"Life is changing," Stu said. 

"Hopefully for the better."

* * * *

Mesut was dashing about the kitchen, helping Andy with the dinner. Andy was all grumbles about the amount of work on such short notice, but Mesut saw the smile on his face at the idea of Bojan coming home.

"Can you go and get me some eggs from the chicken coop?" Andy asked. "As many as we have."

"On it," Mesut said, grabbing the basket and hustling out the back door.

Sami was leaning against the car, cleaned just this afternoon to go pick up Lord Cristiano, smoking a cigarette.

"Where are you off to?"

Mesut held up the egg basket. "Eggs for the soufflé. Lord Iker said we could have something special for dinner so Andy is making his soufflé."

"The lord is ever so generous," Sami said.

"Sami! Stop," Mesut pleaded. "It's a happy day."

"Ah yes, the conquering heroes coming home," Sami said as he ground out the butt of his cigarette under his shoe.

"Well I'm excited," Mesut said. "I've missed Bojan and it's nice to see Lord Iker smile. Will you come and help with the dinner?"

"I've got to pick them up at the train station," Sami said.

"Not for a couple of hours," Mesut said. "And we could use a hand. I've still got to get Lord Cristiano's room ready."

"I'm sure Andy can manage."

Mesut frowned, thinking of Andy's comment that Sami was too high and mighty to do servant's work. 

"Fine," Mesut said as he turned to head to the coop. "Suit yourself."

When Mesut returned, Sami was no where to be found. Off reading one of his political journals no doubt, Mesut thought with a touch of resentment. 

However when he entered the kitchen and saw Carles laughing, his good humor returned. There was just no way to be unhappy on a day like today.

* * * *

They tried to pretend like they weren't all straining to hear the front door as they sat in silence, but the moment there was the sound of the car on the road, Iker was out of his chair and half way to the door.

Raul didn't even admonish him for his eagerness as Cesc was on his heels, Cloe abandoned on the sofa where she was stuck until someone got her down.

Guti grinned and picked up the dog and reached for Raul's hand. "Shall we greet our guests?"

Raul laugh at his formality, despite the small dog wiggling under his arm. "Indeed."

The front door was flung open as a startled looking Carles looked on, and smile on his normally serene features.

"I believe they've arrived," Raul commented as he and Guti reached the bottom of the stairs.

"You are correct, my lord."

Guti released Cloe who flung herself after Cesc. As they stepped out of the house, they saw the car pull to a stop in front of the house.

Sami emerged first, but Bojan had jumped out of the other side of the car and threw himself at Cesc.

Laughing, Cesc hugged him tightly. Bojan saw Carles over Cesc shoulder, and released him.

"CARLES!"

There were tears in the butler's eyes as Bojan hugged him tight. 

Sami opened the door to the car and Cristiano stepped out, and Iker saw the exhaustion in his face. But a smile broke the moment their eyes met.

Propriety demanded decorum, but with Bojan hugging the life out of Carles, Cristiano allowed himself a moment of indulgence and embraced Iker tightly.

"It's so good to see you," Iker said as he tried not to cry.

"You are the best thing I've seen in six months," Cristiano said as his own eyes leaked. Clearing his throat, he stepped away.

"Lord Bernabeu," Cristiano nodded to Raul.

"I am pleased to see you well," Raul said. "I don't believe you've met my companion, Lord Guti."

"I've heard a lot," Cristiano said with a smile to Iker was was wiping his eyes.

"You are all Iker talks of," Guti said, exaggerating slightly, but it was true that whenever Iker had a letter, he had nothing else to talk of over dinner.

"Your father rang to say he will be here in the morning."

"Yes, he met me when we arrived in London," Cristiano said. 

"And how is your brother?"

"Very well," Cristiano said. "Father says he is a star scholar at Harvard."

"Fabio?" Cesc was bouncing on his toes as Cloe investigated Cris's shoes.

"Hello Cesc," Cristiano said as he leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. "Behaving yourself?"

"Mostly," Cesc grinned. 

"Come in," Raul invited him. "We'll have dinner straight away as I'm sure you are hungry after your journey, and then we will let you rest."

"No offense to my fiance, but my dreams have been entirely filled with the thought of a bed to sleep in."

"I promise you that no one will rouse you in the morning until you are ready to wake."

They walked into the house, Carles straightening his jacket from Bojan's enthusiastic greeting. The boy had gone in to see everyone else and the sounds of their reunion could be heard from the downstairs.

Cristiano looked around. "Iker said the house had been turned into a hospital, but I did not imagine it like this."

"It's been an adjustment," Raul said, "but we are happy to be helping the war effort however we can."

They made their way to the dining room while Cesc ran upstairs to put Cloe in his room. A few of the soldiers were finishing their dinner.

They stood when Cristiano, an officer entered. 

"At ease gentlemen," Cristiano said.

The family table had been laid out with all the best crystal and silver, and Cristiano noticed an extra place was set.

"Do we have another guest?" Cristiano asked.

"It's Dr. Esteban!" Cesc said. "Should I get him, father."

"Carles will let him know dinner is about to be served," Raul said. "Please, be seated."

They sat as Juan arrived with the wine. A few minutes later, Dr. Esteban arrived. 

"Do excuse me," he said. "A nurse had a concern."

"Was it Sergeant Miller?" Cesc asked. "I told Stu he looked unwell. He was hot to the touch."

"Indeed it was, Cesc," Dr. Esteban said with a smile. "A good observation."

"Cesc is thinking of going to nursing school," Raul told Cristiano with an approving look at his youngest.

"Really?" Cristiano said as he turned to Cesc. He wasn't quite the silly young boy he'd been when Cristiano had left.

"Dr. Esteban thinks I have a natural talent for healing."

"He does," Dr. Esteban said.

As the conversation continued, Cristiano spotted Lord Raul's companion giving Dr. Esteban appraising looks. That was interesting.

By the time dessert was served, Cristiano was yawning at the table.

"We'll forgive you if you skip the after dinner drinks," Raul assured Cristiano as the plates were being cleared.

"Thank you," Cristiano said.

"Iker? Do you want to show Cristiano to his room?"

Iker was startled by the statement, but he rose. "Of course, father." In all rights it wasn't proper for an engaged couple to retire at the same time unsupervised, but Iker supposed in this case it didn't matter. It wasn't as though he and Cristiano hadn't shared a bed when they were younger.

Iker lead Cristiano up the stairs to the the guest room. It wasn't even like Cristiano even needed to be shown to the room he always used.

When they arrived Cristiano immediately shrugged off his uniform coat. "I hate that thing."

"You look good in it," Iker smiled as he took it from Cristiano and draped it over the back of a chair.

Cristiano smiled. 

Iker stepped close and they fell into each other's arms.

"I missed you so much," Iker said.

"I missed you too."

"Is it awful?" Iker asked.

Cristiano clung to him. "You can't even imagine."

"I try not to. But I close my eyes at night and I think about you and Sergio and I'm so scared."

"I know, baby, I know," Cristiano said. "I'm scared for Sergio too."

Iker let go, but didn't step away. "Do...do you think I could sleep here tonight?"

Cristiano smiled, "Would your father object?"

"Are you kidding? He's too busy with Guti to notice anything."

Cristiano chuckled. "I don't mean to speak ill of your future step father, but doesn't he own a sex club?"

"Oh yes," Iker grinned. "Sergio's been there, no less."

"Really?" Cristiano said with a laugh. "I need to spend more time with my young cousin."

Iker frowned. "Not without me."

"You wanna go to a sex club?"

Iker turned bright red. "I just...I mean...!"

Cristiano laughed and kissed him quickly. "I know. We have our whole lives."

"Promise?" Iker asked.

"Promise."

Iker fell asleep in Cristiano's arms that night, and for the first time in a year, slept through the whole night.

* * * *

"I am SO happy to be home," Bojan gushed as he shoveled the last of the soufflé in his mouth.

"We're happy to have you," Mesut said.

Bojan beamed.

Carles cleared away the last of the dishes. 

"It's nice to be served for a change," Bojan said with a cheeky grin.

"Don't get used to it," Carles said. "You'll be back here soon enough."

Bojan nodded. "I hope so."

"So what's it like, really?" Gerard asked. "War."

Bojan's smile fell away. "It's awful."

"Keep telling him that," Carles said. "The fool is thinking of enlisting."

"I'll get called up soon enough anyway," Gerard said. "And I want to do something!"

Bojan nodded. "I know. But you have to be ready, Geri. It's a lot of cold wet nights of no sleep. It's watching people die and wondering if the next shell is meant for you."

Mesut was wide eyed. "Is it really scary?"

Bojan nodded, but his chest was puffed out a bit. "It is, but you have to be brave."

"Alright, brave boy," Carles said. "Off to bed with you."

Bojan saluted. "Yes sir!"

The others laughed, even Sami, and Bojan got up, hugging everyone just because. He went up the back stairs, his weariness over coming him as he climbed. It was good to be home. To sleep in his own bed.

As Bojan was crawling into bed, Carles knocked softly on his door.

"There's something I wanted to talk with you about," Carles said. "But it can wait until tomorrow."

"No, it's okay," Bojan said as he held in a yawn.

Carles came in and perched on a chair. He took a deep breath. "You know I knew your mother."

"Of course," Bojan said with a frown. 

"What you don't know, and your mother didn't want you to know....well...."

Carles trailed off, and Bojan stared at him. "What?"

"Did your mother ever say who your father was?"

"No," Bojan said. "Whenever I asked, she said I was better off not knowing." There was a pause, and then Bojan's eyes grew wide. "Are you..."

"Yes."

"You ARE?"

"Yes." Carles's head was down, afraid of Bojan's reaction, so it took him utterly by surprise when the boy threw himself at him.

"OH MY GOD!" Bojan squealed. "I KNEW IT!"

"What?" Carles asked, struggling to breathe as Bojan squeezed the life out of him.

"I used to dream that you were my dad! I never had a dad and I always thought that if I did have one, I would want it to be you!"

Tears streamed down Carles's face. "So...you're okay with it?"

"OKAY?" Bojan squeaked. "I'M SO HAPPY!!!!"

Carles laughed as he hugged the boy back. "So maybe you'll start listening to me?"

"No," Bojan grinned. 

Carles shook his head. "Same old Bojan."

 

Chapter 34

Esteban was feeling pleasantly light headed as Guti filled his wine glass yet again. “Shall we retire to the upstairs sitting room?”

“I should check on the patients,” Esteban said, though he knew there wasn’t much to be done.

“I can do it!” Cesc said. “Let me?”

“Alright,” Esteban said, easily swayed. “Send for me if there’s any concerns.”

Cesc jumped up. Raul smiled at him. “You really like this, don’t you?”

Cesc nodded with a grin, and came around the table to his father. “I’m good at it too, aren’t I Doctor Esteban.”

“You really are,” Esteban complimented the boy. 

“You’ll help us see about getting him in to nursing school?” Raul asked as Cesc leaned down to kiss his father on the cheek.

“I’ll write a letter in the morning,” Esteban promised.

Cesc scampered off and the three men rose. “You are so good with him,” Raul praised.

“He’s a really wonderful young man,” Esteban said. “He’ll be such a fine doctor some day.”

“I like to play doctor,” Guti grinned as he came to Esteban’s side and took the hand some young doctor’s arm.

Esteban laughed. “Do you know?”

“Guti, behave,” Raul said as he followed the pair up the main stair case. He hadn’t seen Carles in awhile, but he assumed the butler was busy celebrating with the staff. He knew the man had a special affection for the lad, Bojan. 

Upstairs, Mesut was pouring glasses of port.

“That will be all for this evening, Mesut,” Raul said as Guti guided Esteban to the couch.

“Of course, sir,” Mesut said.

Raul handed Guti and Esteban glasses of port.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think the two of you are trying to get me drunk,” Esteban said as he accepted the glass.

“Why do you know better?” Guti asked as he gazed at Esteban, his blue eyes intense over the rim of his glass.

“I...,” Esteban stumbled.

“Guti, behave,” Raul said as he took a seat across from the pair. “Tell him to leave you alone whenever you like.”

“He doesn’t want me to leave him alone,” Guti challenged as he ran a finger down Esteban’s thigh.

“You’re going to scare the good doctor,” Raul replied as he watched Esteban flush. But the signs were there that the young man was amenable to being seduced. And there was nothing more seductive than Guti.

“He’s not scared,” Guti said as his fingers wandered dangerously up Esteban’s thigh. “He’s wondering how far he’s allowed to let this go before he’s crossed any lines. He’s not sure what game is going on here, but he so badly wants to play.”

“Not everyone wants to play, Guti.”

“Yes they do,” Guti said as his fingers ghosted past Esteban’s cock, making the man draw in a breath. “Everyone wants to play. And everyone should be allowed to play, with no fear that someone won’t respect them later.”

“Do you want to play, Esteban?” Raul asked. He knew how it worked. Everyone did want to play, but people needed to think it was in their control. As good as losing control always sounded, it lead to regrets. Raul did not like to live with regrets.

“Yes,” Esteban breathed.

“Mmm,” Guti sighed happily. “I told you, Raul. I told you he wanted to play with us.”

“Something tells me you planned this,” Esteban said as Guti moved closer, his lips softly catching Esteban’s perfect jaw.

“Of course we did,” Guti said. 

Esteban let out a breathy chuckle as Guti’s hands roamed.

“Why don’t you touch him?” Raul invited. He knew they had to be careful. Cesc was liable to run in at any moment.

Esteban’s hands, normally so steady with his patients, shakily moved toward Guti. A hand landed on his hip, the other on Guti’s chest. Guti’s lips found Esteban’s and Esteban hungrily responded.

Raul watched for several long minutes as he enjoyed his port. Watching Guti with someone else was almost better for him than having Guti himself. He was so beautiful and passionate.

When the last of the drink was gone, Raul stood.

Guti pulled himself away from Esteban who whimpered in protest. “Shall we go to our room?”

“Just so we’re not disturbed,” Raul said as Guti rose and pulled Esteban to his feet, distention obvious in his trousers.

Esteban let Guti take his hand and guide him down the corridor to the room at the end. He knew this was his opportunity to protest. Bow out and no hard feelings. Just not his thing, was all.

But he wanted this. He had, of course, heard the rumors about Lord Raul and his companion. Knew men who’d been to Guti’s club. Never thought that men like these would want someone as boring and bookish as Esteban.

However, the moment Raul closed and locked the door to the bed chamber, Guti began pulling at Esteban’s clothes. His hands were smooth and practiced, where Esteban fumbled to help him, tugging at Guti’s clothes in turn.

Esteban wondered for a moment, as Guti’s hands closed on Esteban’s round, firm ass, how far this was going. Would he let the blond fuck him? He’d never...never that far, but somehow he knew he could trust Guti to take care of him. He was going to do whatever Guti wanted.

They tumbled on to the bed. Guti bore down on Esteban and kissed him deeply, his tongue delving deep into his mouth.

When Guti began to wander down, laying hot kisses down Esteban’s chest, all he was aware of was the aching in his cock. Guti’s hand wrapped around it and Esteban whined with need.

“Raul, did you see this cock?”

Esteban had forgotten Raul was in the room. Feverish eyes opened and saw the Lord splayed out on a chair, stroking his own cock.”

“You want to suck that cock, baby,” Raul suggested. Or maybe ordered.

Guti looked up at Esteban, pushing his blond hair back, catching his eyes in a penetrating gaze as he opened his mouth and closed it around Esteban’s cock.

“Oooohhhh,” Esteban moaned in ecstasy. 

Impatient, Raul joined the pair on the bed while Guti sucked on Esteban’s cock.

Guti pulled back and licked his lips. “Jealous?”

“No,” Raul said as he stroked Guti’s back. “Just needed a better view.”

Esteban panted. “More, Guti, please.”

“He said, please,” Raul urged as Guti smirked.

Guti went back to work, his lips closing around the head as his hand worked over Esteban’s balls. Esteban moaned loudly as his hips bucked up, shoving his cock into Guti’s throat. Guti took it all without complaint.

Raul brushed sweaty curls off of Esteban’s forehead. “You like that, baby?”

There was no coherent reply. Esteban was lost in the heat of Guti’s mouth as the head of his cock pressed against Guti’s throat. He was going to die of pleasure.

“Come for us,” Raul whispered in Esteban’s ear, and Esteban could do nothing but obey as he cried out, seeing stars as he felt the world fall apart.

Guti nearly chocked on the cum. Shit, how long had it been since this kid got any, he thought as he struggled to swallow.

“Lovely,” Raul said as he kissed the side of Esteban’s face.

Guti wiped his chin as he sat back. “Please tell me you’re wiggling that bare ass in my face because it’s ready for me to fuck.”

Raul licked his lips. “It’s always for you.”

Esteban whimpered as he opened his eyes. Holy shit. They were going to fuck right here. 

Guti came up onto his knees behind Raul, and winked at Esteban. “Be a good boy and next time this will be you.”

Him fucking Raul? Esteban closed his eyes as his already racing heart skipped a beat. But then Raul gasped and Guti moaned and he had to see.

And it was gorgeous. Guti powered into Raul forcefully. Raul was ready for him. Met his thrusts with feverish need. Rather boldly, Esteban twisted around to reach underneath Raul and stroked his cock.

“Oh, fuck, Esteban, fuck,” Raul panted.

Guti opened his eyes and looked. Oh, the doctor was perfect for them. The perfect play thing.

Between the two of them, they brought Raul to a shattering climax, Guti slamming into Raul, pressing deep as he found his own release.

Guti wrapped himself around Raul and settled them down onto the bed, still buried deep. Esteban moved to get up.

“You can stay,” Raul said eyes heavy and tired.

“I...I have to see to the patients later,” Esteban said as he reluctantly got up.

“We can do this again,” Guti said as he pulled a blanket over him and Raul.

“Yes...please,” Esteban said as he gazed for a moment at the two beautiful men. Yes, he could see himself wanting to do this over and over again.

 

Chapter 35

 

Mesut lay sweaty and spent in Sami’s arms. The only time he was able to block out all the demons in his head was in Sami’s arms. 

But now as the high abated, the world came back, and tears began to fall.

A tear splashed on Sami’s hand. “Mes?”

Mesut sniffled, but he couldn’t stem the flow.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Gerard. He got his draft letter today.”

“Oh Mes,” Sami cuddled him. “Wasn’t he thinking about enlisting anyway?”

Mesut wailed. “Does it matter?”

“Shhh,” Sami said. He had a thing or two he could say, but he knew Mesut didn’t want to hear them.

“What if it’s me next?” Mesut asked through his tears. “What if I have to go? Or you? Sami?”

“It won’t be me because I won’t go,” Sami said.

“But...you have to if you get drafted!” Mesut said, turning in his arms to look at him.

“They can’t make me fight.” Sami’s eyes were hard.

“But they’ll send you to jail if you don’t!”

“Then they can send me to jail. I won’t fight.”

“Sami!”

“I’m not getting myself killed for their war!” Sami said. “And I don’t want you to either.”

Mesut gaped. “What are you saying?”

“Run away with me,” Sami begged. “You and me. I don’t even care where we go. Let’s go before they have a chance to find us. We can always claim later we didn’t know we’d been drafted.”

“Where would we go? I can’t leave the house! There’s only me, Juan, Andy and Carles left already!”  
 “I don’t care about anyone but you and me!” Sami begged. “They can take care of themselves. Let me take care of you!”

“Sami, I can’t!” Mesut said as he pulled away. “This family has looked after me for years.”

“You’re a MAID.”

“And I’m good at it!” Mesut shot back. “It’s a good living. And I live in this lovely, safe home with people who look after me!”

“Don’t you want to be more than a maid?” Sami asked. 

“Why?” Mesut asked. “What’s wrong with being a maid? I like the work! I don’t have to think about making sure I have food or a clean place to sleep! If I’m sick the family sends for a doctor that I don’t have to pay for! You know what it’s like to worry all the time about these things!”

“I know,” Sami said, as he saw Mesut’s point against his will. “But don’t you want the pride of being your own man? Making your own way?”

Mesut shrugged. “Not if it means sending my kids to bed hungry.”

Sami sighed. 

“Just hold me,” Mesut begged. “I don’t want to think about it tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” Sami said as he snuggled Mesut close. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. If it came down to it, he’d tie up Mesut and take him away against his will.

There was no way he was letting him go.

* * * *

Fernando lay huddled in Sergio’s arms. It was spring in France, but the nights were still cold. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his dirty wool coat.

“Still got that cold?” Sergio asked, his face buried in Fernando’s neck.

Fernando sniffled. “A little.”

“You want some tea?”

“Don’t get up,” Fernando pleaded.

“Shh, I won’t,” Sergio squeezed him tight. The only thing that had kept Sergio sane was the man in his arms. A year ago he was so carefree. He worried about his hair and parties. He wondered about the latest styles. And now. Now he just wanted to keep himself and Fernando alive. He honestly didn’t think he even cared any more about beating the Germans. Fuck the Germans. They could fucking have France for all he cared. France sucked.

He smiled at his own dumb thought.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just tired of this war.”

“Aren’t we all,” Fernando sighed. Though in truth, Fernando was even more afraid of the end of the war. He and Sergio were together every moment of every day. The class distinctions that had kept them apart before were gone. Yes, Sergio was in charge of their brigade, but Fernando, as his personal assistant, was by his side, and Sergio trusted him. Asked him before every decision. Shared his fears with him at night. Lay together with him, helping each other forget the war around them in the bliss of each other’s arms.

What would happen when they went home?

An explosion rocked the world around them. Dirt began to rain down and they clung to each other. There was a pause and for a second, Sergio thought that might be it. A pot shot to see where they were and then they’d move on.

But a second shell followed, and then a third.

Chaos ensued as the men in the trenches scrambled to find their weapons. Sergio shouted orders, but the shells continued to fall and his words were lost.

Fuck! How had they snuck up on them like this?

Fernando handed him his rifle, but what good was it against those shells.

“PULL BACK!” Sergio screamed. “EVERYONE PULL BACK!!!”

The squad scrambled to obey. Sergio pushed Fernando ahead of him as they retreated, leaving everything behind. Sergio looked back to see the men who were able had all cleared out. His brain refused to take in the bodies of those already gone. 

“SERGIO!” Fernando screamed as he hesitated, grabbing Sergio coat and pulling him along. Sergio may be worried about their men, but only one man mattered to Fernando. Only one man in the world.

Sergio came along, and they two of them crouched low as they scampered across the dark field. At one point this must have been farmland, but now it was nothing but a wasteland.

For a moment, Fernando dared to hope they’d gotten away.

And then there was an explosion.

And then blackness.

 

* * * *

Cristiano and Bojan had gone back to the front, and Iker lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling again. Having Cristiano here even for three days had been so wonderful. Iker had slept in Cristiano’s bed every night and while a part of him had hope that Cristiano would try something, he respected that his fiance wanted to wait. Just being held was enough.

But now he couldn’t sleep. He had a nagging in the back of his brain, and he told himself he was just missing Cris. That he was worried yet another of the household had been called to war.

It was nothing more. Nothing.

There was a light knock on his door.

“Come.”

Cesc peered in. “I can’t sleep.”

“Come here,” Iker said, lifting his blanket. Cesc scampered over and climbed in.

“I know it’s stupid, but I just have this feeling something horrible has happened.”

Iker’s heart stopped. Cesc snuggled against him.

“But that’s just me being silly, isn’t it, Iker?”

“Sure,” Iker said as he hugged Cesc. Please god, please god let it be silly. Please no, no more of this family.

 

Chapter 36

Esteban put the phone down and closed his eyes. He’s alive. You have to remind them he’s alive.

“What is it?” Cesc asked. He was carrying a tray of tea cups and saw the on Esteban’s face.

“Where is your father?”

“He and Guti took a walk. What is it Esteban?” Cesc’s eyes got wet. “Oh god, its Sergio. Tell me, Esteban. He’s dead isn’t he?”

Esteban gently took the tray from Cesc. “He’s alive. I promise you that. Just go get your father while I find Iker.”

“Oh god,” Cesc said. “Oh...”

“He’s alive. Get your father.”

Cesc ran at full speed, out the front door, screaming. “FATHER!!!”

Esteban sighed. Please god, please god, not this one. You cannot have this one.

“What’s going on?” Iker asked as the commotion caught his attention.

“Your brother Sergio has been wounded.”

Iker went pale. “Oh god...”

“Cesc went to get your father. I’ll tell you everything as soon as he gets here.”

Iker nodded, though he was gripping the door jam so hard his knuckles were white.

Raul and Guti must not have been far, because moments later Cesc came running back, his father and Guti on his heels.

“Tell me,” Raul said, as ashen faced as his sons.

“Sergio was wounded. He’s alive and on a boat headed for London. He’s expected tonight.”

“I’m going. CARLES!”

The servant came running as Esteban continued. “He’s had an injury to his back. They aren’t sure how severe, but he’s conscious and they believe he’s going to make it.”

Iker breathed. “I’ll come with you, father.”

“No,” Raul said. “You stay here. His room needs to be readied. Carles, get Sami. Can we make the afternoon train?”

Carles nodded. “I believe so...”

“What is it?”

“Is..is there any word on Fernando?”

Raul deflated even more as he turned to Esteban.

Esteban shook his head. “They only called about Sergio. I will call a friend and see what I can find out.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Raul said. “Carles?”

Carles nodded and made a hasty exit to find Sami.

Cesc had tears streaming down his face. “Daddy is he going to be okay?”

Raul gathered up his youngest son. “You keep him in your prayers, okay? I’ll bring him home.”

* * * *

The train pulled into Paddington station. Raul got off the train and hailed a cab. Sergio was bring bought to the Chelsea Red Cross Hospital for officers. He was out of his mind with worry. He would have brought Iker or Guti, but he wanted to see how bad it was before anyone else. He needed to be prepared.

At the hospital, he was quickly shown upstairs to the bed where Sergio was. 

“Sergio.”

The young man opened his eyes. “Father.”

“Oh Sergio,” Raul said as he sat, kissing his son on the forehead. There were scratches on his face and a bruise on his cheek. “How do you feel?”

“I’ve been better,” Sergio said with a slight smile.

“We’re going to take you home. Dr. Esteban already talked to the doctors here and you’re going to be taken to our house tomorrow.”

“Good,” Sergio said. “Have you seen Fernando?”

Raul shook his head. “We’re trying to find out where he is.”

“He was with me,” Sergio said. “The shell exploded and he was right in front of me.”

Raul took his hand. “They’re trying to find out. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Tears welled at the corners of Sergio’s eyes. “He was trying to get us out of there and I made him wait to see that everyone got out. It’s my fault.”

“Shhh,” Raul said as he squeezed Sergio’s hand. “You’re fine. And I’m sure Fernando is fine, too.”

The doctor caught Raul’s eye across the room and beckoned him over.

“I’ll be right back, baby, you try to rest.”

Raul got up and crossed the ward.

“Lord Bernabeu?”

“Yes?”

“I’m your son’s doctor.”

“How is he?”

The doctor sighed. “He’s injured his back. We have to wait for the swelling to go down to know for sure, but there’s every chance he may never be able to walk again.”

Raul closed his eyes. “But he will live?”

“Yes, otherwise he does seem to be fine. No other injuries.”

“Has there been word on his assistant, Corporal Fernando Torres?”

The doctor shook his head. “He’s unaccounted for. The army has him listed as missing in action.”

* * * *

Iker wandered through the ward. Sergio. Wounded. 

Alive, a voice in his head told him. Alive and on his way home.

As he walked through the library he stopped at an empty bed. His brain registered.

“Where’s Pepe?”

Nurse Stu was tending a patient nearby. He looked up. “Oh, Lord Iker, I’m sorry. He passed away this morning. His father was with him.”

Iker stared at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Everyone’s been so upset with Lord Sergio and all, I just...didn’t want to tell you and upset you further.”

Iker nodded. His heart was so full of pain, this further loss barely seemed to register. “Where is his father?”

“He is resting,” Nurse Stu told him. “Carles said the family would see to the arrangements?”

“Of course. Thank you.”

Iker wandered on. So much pain. So much death. Sergio was on his way, but likely to never walk again. Fernando was missing and Pepe was dead. How was one man meant to endure all this in one lifetime?

He came across Juan changing some bed linen. “Lord Iker?”

“Yes?”

“Is there any news on Fernando?”

“I’m sorry, Juan,” Iker said. “No one know where he is.”

“Are they looking for him?”

Iker shook his head sadly. “So many were lost in the attack. More than 20 of their company are lost and presumed dead.”

Juan nodded tearfully.

“I’m sorry, Juan. I know you and he were close.”

“It’s just Pepe and now Lord Sergio and Fernando,” Juan said, his voice choked up with sobs. “When does it end?”

“I don’t know,” Iker said as he pulled the smaller man to him in a tight hug. “I don’t know.”

 

Chapter 37

When Sergio arrived at Bernabeu, it was not the home he'd left. His father had wanted to settle him back in his room, but Dr. Esteban thought it better for him to remain down stairs where the nurses could more easily see to him. 

He lay in the small bed, tucked in close by his own little brother of all people, who was leaving later in the week to attend nursing school. Cesc!

Iker sat at his bed side nearly all the time, reading to him or feeding him soup. Sergio could have fed himself, but for the moment, he was more than happy to be catered to. 

He was never going to walk again. This, really, was something he could have dealt with. He could have dealt with anything if Fernando was by his side.

"He's missing in action," Raul had quietly told him. When Sergio had burst into tears, noisy sobs coming from a place that Raul could not understand, the family had given him wide berth, assuming his pain came from his injury. 

"Can you imagine the there's a home in London with five phones!" Iker read out of the paper. "What in heaven's name would you need with five phones?"

Sergio heard the words, but did not respond.

Iker pressed on. "I can't imagine that you couldn't make do with just one. Why anyone would want to talk on one of those things for more than five minutes would be beyond me anyway. What could you possibly have to say that would take that long?"

Sergio finally turned to look at Iker. "What?"

Iker got that look on his face. THAT LOOK of pity.

Sergio looked away.

"Dr. Esteban says that you can probably go outside for a walk later," Iker said.

"Great," Sergio said as he looked away. Don't pity me. Don't.

Cesc came in, balancing a tray. "Have you guys seen Mesut or Sami today?" 

"Not since this morning," Iker said. "Mesut served breakfast, but I've not seen him since."

"I had to make the tea!" Cesc exclaimed. "Andy says he's not seen him. And with Geri gone now." He carefully set the tray down and brought cups to them.

"He must be busy elsewhere in the house. He and Juan have been run off their feet. I even saw Carles dusting the other day."

"The horror!" Cesc said with a grin. His face fell when he realized Sergio wasn't even looking at him, just down at the cup of tea. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

Iker met Cesc's eyes and gave him a slight shake of the head. No improvements to his spirit.

"I'm going to have to get packing for Birmingham. Dr. Esteban says to be prepared to deal with not nearly as nice of a place to stay as this, and I thought, well, of course not, it's college, you know? Xabi was always complaining about his college dorm..."

A tear slipped down Sergio's cheek and Cesc wilted.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay," Iker said as he reached for Cesc's hand to squeeze. "You deliver your tea."

Cesc left the room with his tray rattling, trying not to cry.

"Is it ever going to stop hurting?" Sergio asked.

Iker swallowed hard. "Time will tell."

* * * *

Cristiano lay in the bed, unable to sleep. The officers in his unit were given a place to stay at an abandoned chateau, and even as much as he enjoyed being in a bed rather than in the trenches with his men, he felt guilty.

Jose threw an arm over him. "You need to sleep."

"I know," Cristiano replied, not responding to his touch, but neither did he move away.

"We leave early."

"I know."

Jose propped up on his elbow. "What is it?"

Cristiano turned his eyes to Jose. "I had a letter from Iker today."

A flicker of emotion crossed Jose's face. "How are things at Bernabeu Hall?"

"Not good," Cristiano said. "Sergio is depressed, Cesc has gone away to school, and writes that he's homesick. One of the maids ran away with the driver, and they're down to just the cook, a maid and the butler."

"Times are hard," Jose said with little sympathy.

"Iker is used to a better life. As much as you can say that everyone needs to make adjustment, some people have more to lose."

"You can't make life easier for him."

"But I should," Cristiano insisted. "He's my fiancee and it's my responsibility to look out for him and his family."

"Iker is a grown man," Jose reminded him. "He needs to stand on his own two feet."

"Iker doesn't know what the real world is like," Cristiano said as he pushed himself up from the bed, throwing off Jose's arm, "And I would like him to keep his innocence a little longer."

Jose didn’t comment as Cristiano pulled on his trousers and stalked out of the room.

* * * *

 “Can I get a lift out to Bernabeu Hall?”

“Sure, mate,” said the driver of the ambulance. “You know someone out there?”

“My boyfriend,” smiled the man as he pulled up into the cab of the truck.

“One of the wounded?” asked the driver.

“Yes. But I hear he’s going to make it.”

“Well, that’s alright then,” the driver said as he pulled back onto the road. “I’ve got a few new ones in here.” He eyed the man’s arm which was in a sling. “You get that in the war?”

“Yes,” the man said. “It was just broken. Should be alright in a month or so.”

“Good to hear. Too many of our boys coming back in pieces or not at all.”

“I know. You been to the front?”

“Flat feet,” the driver said. “Whatever that means, really. I wish I could get out there, you know?”

“You don’t want to,” the man said. “You really don’t.”

The ambulance pulled up in front of Bernabeu Hall, and several nurses emerged to help bring the new patients in.

The man got out and walked into the house, unquestioned.

He wandered into the library and there he saw him.

His eyes filled with tears.

Sergio’s eyes opened suddenly, and Iker, at his bedside, was startled. “What is it?”

“Fernando.”

Iker looked and saw, looking tired and underfed, their maid, Fernando, arm in a sling.

“I thought you were dead,” Sergio said as tears spilled out of his eyes.

“I told you it was you and me forever,” Fernando said as he crossed to the bed.

Fernando didn’t hesitate as he climbed into the bed with Sergio and was wrapped in his lovers arms.

“I thought you were dead,” Sergio sobbed. 

“Shh,” Fernando said as they clung to one another. “We promised forever.”

Iker stood, utterly stunned at the sight, but found his own eyes wet at the reunion. He left the lovers and went to tell everyone else the good news.

 

Chapter 38

Summer of 1918

Gerard pulled the crate from under the bush, glancing around to be sure there was no one around. He carried it over to the truck and shoved it under a tarp in the back of the truck.

"Hurry," called Victor from the front seat.

Gerard ran around to the passenger seat and climbed in.

Victor grinned as they pulled back on to the road. "I knew we could count on Karim. Didn't I tell you?"

"Yes, you've very wise," Gerard said with a grin. Victor never was one to be shy about his own fabulousness.

Gerard had met Victor in the army. Victor was the kind of man who knew how to make a buck, generally legally. But as the war took it's toll across France, there were more and more opportunities for an entrepreneurial young man to make a lot of money. Gerard and Victor had gotten connections in the French Black Market, supplying goods to people in need. 

Or at least Gerard tried to tell himself it was about helping out people. Yes, they were making piles of cash, but they were also bringing medicines to people in need. 

"Meeting Karim at that cafe was the best thing," Victor gushed. "And you. You could charm the pants off of a nun."

Gerard grinned. "Maybe I made him thing he could have me if he let us in on this take."

Victor grinned. "You better not." He ran his hand up Gerard's thigh.

"I'm a shameless tease, you said so yourself," Gerard grabbed his hand before it reached his target.

"I got in your pants, didn't I?" Victor grinned.

"You got me drunk," Gerard accused, but they both laughed.

In truth, the war had been good to Gerard. He'd managed to avoid the front, by being assigned to a supply detail. He could do sums and read, which made him rather valuable to the army. Victor had quickly showed him how a man could make a buck or two and Gerard hadn't looked back.

* * * *

Mesut wiped his face and looked out the window. If he turned his head just right, he could see past the wall of the building behind them and to the green commons beyond.

It was a sweltering August in Liverpool, and he'd have given his life for a cool breeze.

The door opened. Sami emerged, looking tired. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat.

"Did you get the bread?"

Sami sighed. "No. I thought you were going to do it."

"Sami, I asked you specifically," Mesut complained.

"I had to work."

Mesut bit his lip, not wanting to argue, but he had. He'd asked Sami that morning if he could stop and get the bread from the rationing center after work. Mesut had to clean three houses today and didn't have time. He turned to the stove and opened a tin of beans. For dinner. Again.

Sami opened his newspaper.

A tear ran down Mesut's cheek.

He wanted to go home.

* * * *

"Fernando, why do you still do the laundry?" Sergio asked as Fernando got out of bed at dawn.

"Because I'm the maid, silly," Fernando said. "Do you need anything before I go down?"

"You're my fiance."

"Sese, we finally got your father to stop complaining about me sleeping in here, one step at a time. Besides, the house needs me."

"I think Father has convinced himself you sleep on the couch," Sergio said with a slight grin.

In truth, the did little more than snuggle together, Sergio's injury having left him paralyzed from the waist down, but Sergio couldn't sleep without Fernando, and never let him be out of his sight for more than a few hours. It had been several years, but still Sergio feared Fernando being taken from him again.

"You go back to sleep. I'll be up in a couple hours with your breakfast," Fernando kissed his temple and tucked him back in.

Sergio smiled though his back was killing him. There was a sharp pain in his spine that Dr. Esteban could not account for. He knew there were specialists, but due to the war, none had been able to be brought to see Sergio.

Adjusting himself, Sergio found a comfortable way to rest. He had Fernando. That was worth all the pain in the world.

* * * *

Fabio stood on the deck of the ocean liner which would take him back to England for the first time since the start of the war. Letters from his father and brother were the only connection that he had to England. Despite pouring over every newspaper he could find, he felt outside his own life.

He gazed at the skyline of Boston, his home for the past four years. He would miss the city that had become his surrogate him, but he could not wait to walk on English soil again.

"You look rather wistful, young sir."

Fabio turned and saw Lord Beckham approaching him.

"I didn't realize you were in Boston!" Fabio embraced the man he'd not seen since leaving London.

"I've just been in America since the spring," David replied. "Keeping track of business interests. I heard you were on this ship."

"Just graduated," Fabio said. "Father and I agree that with the new offensive of the Allies, the war will be over shortly."

"I hope so," David said. "It's been hard on everyone. How is your family?"

"Cristiano is well," Fabio said. "After two years at the front, he was transfered to an office in London."

"Was he wounded?"

"He was," Fabio said. "In truth, it was just a flesh wound on his leg, and he is fully recovered. But Father and Jose Mourinho were able to get him the reassignment."

"Ah yes, Lord Mourinho," David said. "Does he still have designs on being Prime Minister?"

"Of course," Fabio said. 

"Same Jose," David said. 

"Same Jose," Fabio laughed.

The ocean liner began to pull away from the harbor. As Boston receded into the distance, Fabio and David started to get to know each other.

 

Chapter 39

 

Cesc was scrunched in the corner of the library, reading a large medical textbook. He had an anatomy test to sit soon, and he was memorizing bones. He had the legs down, but there were about a million in the foot.

There was a cough across the room. Cesc looked up and saw the patient in the far bed struggling to sit up.

"Hold on," Cesc said as he scampered over to the bed. He reached for a glass of water and held it to the man's lips. Cesc remembered his name was Danny, and he was Danish. He was wounded in northern France, and his father was a prince or something and had arranged for his son to be cared for in England, away from the fighting.

"Thank you," Danny said after he'd taken a long drink. "As if the indignity of having you change my bedpan wasn't enough."

Cesc smoothed down his blankets as Danny settled back. "As soon as your leg heals up enough to get out of bed, you'll be right as rain."

"Are you trained to placate all the patients like that?" Danny teased.

"Yes. We had to do a whole course in placating," Cesc said with a cheeky grin. "Right after bed pan changing."

"What are you reading?" Danny asked as Cesc pulled up a chair next to him.

"Anatomy," Cesc said. "I'm rubbish at it."

"Are you training to be a doctor?" Danny asked, impressed. 

"I am. At the moment I'm doing a lot of correspondence work from Oxford, but as soon as the war is over they have a place for me. Actually Dr Esteban says he bets by the time the war is over, I'll be ready to start my practical training at a hospital."

"You are more than a pretty face, then," Danny said.

Cesc blushed. "It's a lot of hard work. And I can't remember all of these bones. Why are there so many bones!"

Danny grinned. "Let me quiz you, then."

Cesc handed over the book carefully, as it was massive, and Danny adjusted it comfortably on his chest. "Right....what's this, then?" He pointed to his head.

Cesc chuckled. "The skull."

"Genius," Danny praised.

And, as Cesc sat with Danny for the next hour, memorizing all the bones, both of them forgot about their troubles.

* * * *

Victor and Gerard sat at the back of a small French pub, toasting their success at their latest operation. Karim had set them up with a permanent run from Paris, smuggling out any number of goods. They were making piles of money.

"I tell you what," Gerard said, slightly drunk. "After this war, I will never, ever have to work as a servant again."

"Amen," Victor said as they clinked glasses of cheap wine.

"Fucking aristocrats," Gerard hiccuped. 

"Fucking..." Victor started, but then he froze. "Aristocrats!"

"Yes?" Gerard asked.

"Look, do you think you could get your place back at Bernabeu Hall?"

"What happened to never working as a servant again?"

"Shut up. Look, if you get your place back, we'll be able to use the Hall as a hub for transporting goods in and out of the Midlands. We'll make a mint controlling the trade between London and Manchester."

"Oh," Gerard said. "Yeah...Yeah I bet I could. I could just suck Carles's cock and he'd have me back in a heartbeat."

"You better not," Victor said, his face darkening.

"Jealous?" Gerard teased, knowing the older man was easily aroused to a jealous rage. Which usually meant really, really hot sex.

"You are mine," Victor growled. "No one else's. Ever."

"Alright," Gerard said. "But you know how easy some men are to control even with just the promise of a cock sucking."

"You can promise all you want," Victor said. "But the only cock you suck is mine."

"You want that cock sucked?" Gerard leered across the table.

"Always," Victor said, his jealous fading into lust as he dragged Gerard into the back alley of the pub.

* * * *

Sergio winced again. "Are you sure you won't let me look at that?" Cesc asked as he pulled Sergio's shirt down. 

"Are you a doctor?" Sergio grumbled, the pain making him cranky.

"Nearly," Cesc said. "Come on. Just let me have a look."

Sergio sighed and allowed Cesc to roll him on his front. Cesc wriggled the shirt back up and examined the scarred back. Gently, he ran his fingers along Sergio's spine.

"FUCK!" Sergio yelled.

"Sorry!" Cesc said, but went back to the place that had hurt. When he pressed on it, something shifted. 

"WOULD YOU STOP THAT," Sergio bellowed.

"Sorry!" Cesc repeated and balled his fists to stop himself touching it again. It hadn't been like that before, he was sure of it. "Stay there."

"Where the hell do you think I'm going, Paris?" Sergio bitched as Cesc ran to get Dr. Esteban.

Sergio closed his eyes and breathed as the pain receded. He just wanted to make the pain stop.

"Cesc tells me your back is bothering you?" Dr. Esteban said as he entered. Fernando was on his heels as he’d overheard Cesc telling Dr. Esteban to get upstairs.

"Cesc should be made a doctor immediately,” Sergio said with all the sarcasm he could muster.

Fernando moved to his side and took his hand. “You told me it was nothing.”

“It wasn’t so bad until Dr. Fix-it over there started poking at it!”

“I barely touched it!” Cesc said.

“Here?” Dr. Esteban asked as he looked at the scarred flesh.

“Yes,” Cesc said.

“I’m going to have to touch it,” Dr. Esteban warned.

“Squeeze my hand,” Fernando ordered as Sergio gritted his teeth.

Dr. Esteban prodded and Sergio screamed. “Okay, I’m done,” he promised. “Cesc, can you get Sergio some morphine? I’ve got a call to make.”

“Oh fine, don’t tell me anything,” Sergio said as a tear ran down his cheek.

Dr. Esteban paused. “Something is loose in your back. And I think if we can operate to remove it, we’ll be able to fix the pain for you.”

“Good,” Sergio sighed, finally releasing the death grip he hand on Fernando. “Just don’t fucking touch it again.

* * * * 

Tearfully, Mesut laid the Bible his mother had given him on top of his case and closed it. There really wasn't an option any more. He had to go.

He loved Sami, but for the third night this week, Sami hadn't come home until the early hours of the morning, drunk. Mesut knew he was off with his politcal friends from the factory, plotting god knew what. Sami had stopped inviting Mesut along, or even discussing it with him, when Mesut had balked at the idea of staging a strike.

"But your work is important," Mesut had said. "What with the troops do without the parts for their jeeps."

"We have nothing against them, but the owners and the government have to see that we deserve to be treated better than this!"

"But it's the soldiers who will suffer."

Mesut picked up his case and laid the note for Sami on the table. He hated to abandon his jobs the way he would be, but there were other people who could clean. No one would go hungry if he didn't show up to dust today.

Softly closing the door, he wiped his eyes. He would be strong. He was going to go back to Bernabeu Hall, where Carles said there would always be a place for him, and start over again.

And next time he wouldn't be so stupid as to follow his heart.

 

Chapter 40

Dr. Esteban had managed to get a friend of his, a well known surgeon, to come to the house to see about Sergio’s back. They had set up an operating theater in the dining room, and the family was waiting on news in the study.

Fernando paced. “How long does it take?”

“It could be a couple of hours,” Cesc said. “They go really slowly, especially with the back so they don’t accidentally cause any damage.”

Iker watched Fernando pace, and realized exactly how much Fernando loved his brother. At first, he’d been convinced, like his father, that Fernando wasn’t in it for any more than trying to move up in the world, but when Fernando had resumed his maid’s duties without a word of complaint, while also assuming the full time care of Sergio, Iker knew it had to be for real.

“Please sit,” Raul invited him, and for a moment Fernando looked at him, as though it had just occurred to him that he was the maid.

“I...I’m sorry,” Fernando said. “Does anyone want tea?”

“Sit,” Raul said again. “I’ll ring for Mesut.”

Fernando took the place on the sofa next to Raul and began wringing his hands. “He’s been in pain for month, and he thinks he hides it, but I know. I know he’s just trying to be strong for me.”

Raul reached out an took Fernando’s hand. “I don’t think I’ve told you how much it’s meant to us that you’ve been there for Sergio through all of this.”

Fernando looked stunned. Cesc’s jaw dropped.

“I know I’ve not been wholly supportive of you, but I see how much you truly care for my son. He’s gone through a very difficult period, and you have kept his spirits up. We can never repay you.”

“I love him,” Fernando said, with tears in his eyes. “He kept me safe through the war and now I can look after him. It’s all I ever wanted.”

Raul nodded. “I want you to know that you have my blessings.”

“Thank you,” Fernando said. “Thank you.”

“Oh!” Cesc finally gave in to the urge to speak and came and threw his arms around Fernando. “I knew Father would come around, I knew it!”

Fernando laughed as he embraced Cesc. “Sergio said it didn’t matter, but it’s wonderful to hear, Lord Bernabeu.”

The front door bell rang and they heard Carles open it.

“Lord Ronaldo. It’s good to see you, sir. The family is in the study.”

“Thank you, Carles. Bojan accompanied me. He said he would come around back?”

“Thank you, sir.”

Iker rose and went to the door. Cristiano met him there.

“You didn’t have to come,” Iker said tearfully.

“Of course I did. How is he?”

“In surgery,” Iker said, his head on Cristiano’s shoulder. “They don’t know how long it will take.”

Cristiano hugged Iker once more before he disengaged. “Lord Bernabeu,” he said, nodding to Raul. “Cesc. Fernando.”

“Thank you for coming,” Raul said. “I know Iker appreciates it.”

“Distract us,” Cesc begged. “What’s going on in London?”

Cristiano sat with Iker and told them of life in London. The city was abuzz with the new, heightened offensive the Allies had begun, and there was real hope they might have the war ended, for real this time.

“It can’t be over soon enough,” Raul said.

“Well, said.”

* * * *

Bojan peered into the kitchen. “Where can a hungry soldier get a meal?”

Andy’s face broke into a grin. “Bo! We weren’t expecting you!”

“Lord Ronaldo made a trip down after hearing about Lord Sergio’s surgery.”

“Sit,” Andy ordered and put the kettle on. “I’m afraid with the rationing, I can’t offer you a biscuit, but maybe some fresh bread?”

“Anything, I’m starving!” Bojan said.

“You will never guess who showed up last week begging for his job back,” Andy said as he set a generous slice of bread before Bojan.

“Carles wrote me! Mesut!”

“He’s upstairs delivering the tea. He won’t speak a word about Sami. He moved back into the loft over the garage, and we only see him to work. He takes his meals on his own.”

“Poor Mes,” Bojan said. “Did they break up do you suppose?”

“Must have,” Andy said. “He’s miserable.”

Carles appeared and Bojan sprang to his feet. “Carles!”

“It’s good to see you,” Carles said, embracing his son tightly.

“You all need to come to London!” Bo said. “Then I could see you all the time.”

“Not as long as the house is being used as a hospital,” Carles said as he stepped back. “But I am glad you are here.”

“Lord Cristiano said we’re to stay the night, but will likely have to leave in the morning,” Bo said as he sat back down to his bread.

“We’ll have you as long as they can spare you,” Carles ruffled his hair affectionately.

Xavi and Juan soon joined them and everyone caught up on old times.

* * * *

The surgery was completed and Sergio was moved to a bed to rest. He would not wait for several hours, so Fernando sat holding his hand while the others went to rest.

“Might I use your phone to make a call?” Cristiano asked Raul. 

“Of course. You may use the one in the upstairs study,” Raul said. His sons had talked him into a second phone, though he had no idea why.

Cristiano went up the stairs as Cesc went to see Dr. Esteban.

“Did it go well?”

“I think so,” Dr. Esteban said. “There was a bit of shrapnel that had been lodged in his spine which had come loose. It was easy enough to remove, in the end.”

“Good,” Cesc beamed. 

“Oh, Cesc. Can you ring the hospital in Birmingham. We need more morphine.”

“Will do,” Cesc said as he collected up the sheets on the operating table to take them to the laundry.

Mesut appeared. “I can do that, sir.”

“Thank you Mesut,” Cesc said. “It’d good to have you back.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mesut said.

Cesc went to the phone. He picked it up and realized someone was on the line. He was about to put the phone down, when he recognized Cristiano’s voice.

“Yes, we’ll stay the night,” he was saying.

“I’ll miss you.”

Cesc searched his brain to place the other voice.

“I know. I’ll miss you. I’m sorry I missed our evening.”

“You had to be there.”

“It’s important to Iker,” Cristiano said with affection. 

“You are important to me.”

“Jose...”

Cesc’s jaw dropped.

“I know, I know you must marry him.”

“I do love him,” Cristiano said, his voice lowered.

“You love him like a brother. Does he make you feel as I do?”

“Jose,” Cristiano begged again. “I am not having this discussion in my fiance’s home.”

“It will be your home one day,” Jose reminded him.

“Good evening, Lord Mourinho,” Cristiano said, his voice gone stiff and formal.

“Good evening,” Jose replied with a sigh.

They hung up and Cesc stood in the hall with his mouth hung open.

 

* * * *

Fabio lay in David’s arms, sweaty and spent. A smile played on his lips as he recalled the nights spent with the older man, who was every bit the creative lover his cousin Sergio had said. He felt a twinge of guilt that he was in bed with his cousin’s former lover, but Sergio was with the maid now, of all insane things.

Yes, Fabio thought, he was the lucky one. Escaped the war at university. Headed home to London with a job waiting, and a new lover to keep his bed warm.

David was asleep, but Fabio couldn’t seem to drift off. They were due to arrive tomorrow, and Fabio was not sure what London would look like.

War had changed everything in the four years he’d been away. Would anything be the same?

He thought of life before the war. When he couldn’t properly read the French newspaper and all he thought about was sex with Raul, heir to Meireles.

Raul. He’d heard his former lover had wed and his wife had given him a son. Everything Raul’s father had ever wanted from him. But was the man happy?

Fabio snuggled closer to David. He didn’t care. Raul had taken his path, and Fabio his. There was nothing between them any more.

* * * *

Sergio awoke and found himself lying on his side. He took a moment to assess his back, and found the pain markedly less.

He opened his eyes.

“Hey sleepy head,” Fernando said as he squeezed his hand. “How do you feel?”

“My back is better,” Sergio said as he closed his eyes again.

“Good. Do you need anything?”

“A drink?”

“I’ll get you some water,” Fernando said as he got up, moving to the sideboard where the pitcher of water was sitting.

“And can you cover my feet?” Sergio asked. “They’re freezing.”

Fernando froze, turning slowly back to Sergio. “Your feet?”

“They’re cold,” Sergio repeated.

Fernando reached down and took ahold of Sergio’s bare foot. “Can you feel that?”

“Sure,” Sergio said, the anesthetic still not quite worn off.

The foot twitched in Fernando’s hand. “Wiggle your toes.”

“Don’t be stupid...” Sergio started to say, but in Fernando’s hands, the toes began to wiggle.

Sergio looked down and his eyes met Fernando’s.

They both grinned.

“I’ll go get Dr. Esteban!” Fernando whooped with joy.

Sergio lay in the bed, wiggling all of his toes as tears streaked down his face.


	5. Chapters 41-50

Chapter 41

 

Cesc sat by Danny's bedside, textbook closed in his lap, while the Danish prince slept. In the past several weeks, he'd gotten to know the young man rather well, and Cesc found himself at his bedside whenever he wasn't busy with other duties. Danny had told him about his father, who was, indeed a prince, and they had joked that Danny was going to be a qualified doctor by the time Cesc got done studying for his exams.

But today Cesc couldn't focus on anything. The secret he'd overheard weighed heavily on his mind. Iker would be devastated if he found out about Cris and Jose. Cesc sorely wished he'd just hung up the phone when he'd heard voices, but it was like his hand was stuck to the phone, and he'd listened against his will.

"You look serious," joked Nurse Stu as he came by to check on the patients.

Cesc started, not even having heard the man enter the room. "Sorry."

"You okay?" Stu asked, concerned.

"Just, stuff," Cesc said.

"I have a break coming up. You want to talk?" Stu offered.

Cesc wanted to talk. He wanted to get it off his chest. But dare he spill a family secret to an outsider?

Cesc shook his head. "Just something silly, really," he said as he forced a smile.

"Oh," Stu said. "You want to get a tea anyway?"

Stu looked hopeful, and Cesc had the sudden thought that Stu was asking him for more than a cup of tea. It was true that Cesc and Stu had become close friends over the past couple of years and Stu helped Cesc with his training to be a nurse. Iker had once teased Cesc about him and Stu, but Cesc had looked at Iker blankly.

In truth, Cesc had been so wrapped up in his training, he'd barely had time to think about finding a mate. As the 4th son, he was mostly free to do what he liked, what with Iker and Cris engaged, Father never even mentioned to Cesc the need to marry.

It wasn't that he didn't notice attractive boys and girls, he just seemed to go from hiding behind his mother's skirts to medical school, without much time in between for personal relationships.

Stu was still looking at him hopefully, and Cesc nodded. He did find Stu attractive, but Stu was a nurse. Son of a shopkeeper from America. It was all well and good for wild, uninhibited Sergio to go and fall in love with the maid, but his father would only tolerate so much brazen disrespect for their position in the world. 

No, Cesc thought as he left his textbook at Danny's bedside, Cesc would marry better than that.

* * * *

"So, brother," Fabio asked as he and Cristiano sat over after dinner drinks, "are the rumors true?"

"Which rumors would these be?" Cristiano asked. "I try not to take much stock in rumors.

Fabio grinned. He'd been back in London for a week, and while the war was definitely still on, life here had changed less than one might suspect. He was working in his father's office, already a part of the day to day activity, and life was good.

Their father had gone to bed after dinner, having an early start, and Cristiano and Fabio were enjoying drinks and catching up.

"I love rumors," Fabio said. "Like you and Jose Mourinho are far more than work colleagues since you got back from the front?"

Cristiano gave away the truth as soon as the words were out of his brother's mouth. 

"So that's a yes?" Fabio asked reading Cristiano's face. "I assume your lovely fiance is none the wiser? Has no idea that someone else is sharing your bed?"

Cristiano looked pained. "Iker is innocent. He doesn't need to know anything."

"Innocent?" Fabio raised an eyebrow. "You've been engaged for four years!"

"Iker believes in waiting," Cristiano said hotly. 

"Waiting is all well and good when you're engaged a few months. Waiting is the reason you're screwing other men!"

"There's no one but Jose!" Cristiano said, coming to his feet in his aggitation. 

"Oh," Fabio said with a knowing look. "So you're more than lovers, then?"

Cristiano forced himself not to respond. Not to react. Not to give Fabio, who'd always been able to get a rise of of Cristiano more than any other, the satisfaction. He poured himself more drink and took a long gulp.

"Oh Cris," Fabio said, realizing he'd gone too far. "Do you love Iker?"

"You know I do."

"Then you have to end things with Jose. I'm all for extramarital affairs, but only if it's just sex. Sex is nothing but sex. You just can't let yourself feel things."

Cristiano closed his eyes, trying to feel the burn of the liquor rather than the pain in his heart. "It's not so easy as just ending things with Jose."

"I know," Fabio said. "But you must."

"I just don't think I can let go of him."

* * * *

Xavi got to his feet, feeling all of his years in his back. He wasn't as old as it felt, he thought with a wry smile. He really needed to get Juan to start dusting the baseboards. Juan was a young thing. 

Carles appeared. "Ah, there you are."

Xabi nodded. "I'm done in here, is there anything we've missed?"

"No, no," Carles said with a smile. "Spotless as always Xavi. No. It's just there was a letter for you."

"A letter for me?" Xavi asked with a frown. "When was the last time I had a letter?"

"Nineteen eleven," Carles said. "Which is why I had to bring it up to you right away."

Xavi set his duster on the table and took the letter. As soon as he saw it, he knew who it was from. His hand gripped the table for support.

"What is it?" Carles asked as he watched the blood drain out of Xavi's face.

"Nothing," Xavi said quickly. "Nothing at all...old friend." He stuffed the letter in his jacket. "Should I dust the study?"

Carles frowned. "Everything alright?"

"Everything's great," Xavi lied. "Just. Great."

* * * *

"If I didn't know any better I'd say Nurse Stu there wants to be your boyfriend," Danny teased Cesc as Stu scampered away with the dirty linens.

"What?" Cesc asked, gone deep red. 

"Some tea, Cesc? I got you a biscuit, Cesc? More jam, Cesc?" Danny mimicked.

"Shut up," Cesc muttered. "You want some more salve on your leg?" he threatened. Dr. Esteban had prescribed a foul smelling salve for Danny's leg which stung like crazy. The wound was healing slowly, but Danny's inability to sit still wasn't helping.

Danny made a face. "You're a cruel nurse."

Cesc opened his book and pointedly ignored Danny.

"Don't pout," Danny said. "Stu is cute. Don't you like him?"

"I like him fine," Cesc muttered. 

"Not into boys?" Danny pressed.

Cesc finally looked over at Danny. "I like boys."

"So?" Danny prompted.

Cesc blushed.

“Or...do you like someone else?”

Cesc went even pinker. Danny’s eyes twinkled and Cesc felt a flush of desire. 

“Who do you like, Cesc?” Danny pressed. “Anyone I know???”

The door opened and Dr. Esteban called, “Cesc, I need you!”

Saved, Cesc scampered to help, but Danny watched him go with a smile on his lips. Danny had a feeling he knew who Cesc’s crush might be, and he just might feel the same.

* * * *

For a week, Cristiano avoided Jose. It wasn’t really hard. Jose was back with parliament, and Cristiano had his job with the army. When ever Jose asked to meet, Cristiano had an excuse about meeting Fabio or his father.

Fabio was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He had to end things with Jose. Iker was his future. He would leave the army after the war, he would marry Iker and live at Bernabeu Hall and learn about being a country gentleman. He and Iker would raise a family.

And as much as that wasn’t what he’d planned, the more Cristiano thought about it, the more it was what he wanted. Iker needed him, and loved him. After all the hell of the war, a quiet life would be wonderful. And kids. He wanted them desperately.

But he needed to tell Jose. He needed to end it. 

And then Jose would be seductive as he always was.

He would promise to stop pressuring him to give up Iker. He’d whisper in his ear and caress his back. He’d tell Cristiano how much he needed him. How much they’d shared together. Did Cristiano want to give that up? Before he’d know it, his clothes would be off and Jose would be working him open. Rubbing him inside as he stroked his cock. Making Cristiano lose all reason as he’d slide into him deep, and fuck him until he couldn’t even remember Iker’s name.

Cristiano closed his eye and breathed. 

He was never going to be able to do it.

* * * * 

Xavi read the letter over and over. 

“I’m back in the area. I know it’s been years, but could I see you again?”

Years? Xavi thought. Too many years. You walked out too many years ago to be back.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Xavi lay in his bed. Pep had made his decision. He’d walked away from Xavi. He wanted a life of adventure, and Xavi wanted the security of a home. He’d had this job at Bernabeu. A good job. 

Pep had wanted him to give it all up and go abroad. “We’ll go to America!” Pep had said. “Don’t you want to see the Grand Canyon?”

Xavi admitted he might not mind seeing the grand canyon. The pictures Pep had in his magazines were stunning.

But Xavi had wavered, and Pep had gone without him.

And now it was ten years later, and Xavi was still here, no word for ten years.

And now “I’m back.”

Xavi closed his eyes. No. No I don’t want to see you.

* * * *

“I can do it, Cesc, I know I can!” Danny said as Cesc wheeled him down the ramp to the back gardens. It was a sunny and warm day and Danny had bullied Cesc to get him to take him outside, but now Danny wanted to walk.

“No you can’t. You’ll tear your wound open again and then you’ll be in this hospital forever!”

“Maybe that’s my plan,” Danny said as he winked at Cesc. Cesc blushed and his nose crinkled. He wondered once again what it would be like to kiss Danny.

“Stop,” Cesc said. “You and Sergio both. Sergio thinks he should be leading the charge, and Dr. Esteban says five minutes a day until he’s stronger.”

“Fernando helps Sergio with his walking,” Danny pouted.

That’s not all Fernando’s helping him with, Cesc thought with another blush. His brother seemed to forget Cesc slept in the next room!

“Sergio didn’t get his leg split open to the bone!”

Danny winced. “Fine. Then can I at least sit on that bench by the pond and act like I’m not an invalid for a minute?”

“Okay,” Cesc agreed and wheeled Danny over to the bench. It had been one of his mother’s favorite places to sit and read on a day like today. As he helped Danny onto it, he told him about her.

“I wish I could have met your mother,” Danny said as Cesc moved the wheelchair behind the bench as to not obstruct the view.

Cesc sat with him. “She was so beautiful. And kind. She loved all of us so much. Father always had to discipline us because even when Sergio broke a two hundred year old vase that had been a gift from the king of France, Mum was consoling him because he’d cut his thumb.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Danny said as he squeezed Cesc’s hand. 

Cesc turned and looked at Danny, his eyes kind and sympathetic. This was the first time he’d been able to look the man in the eye, and Cesc felt his breath catch.

At the same moment, they both leaned in and crashed noses.

“Oh! Sorry!” Cesc spluttered, moving away, but Danny caught his chin and tipped his head. 

“This works better,” Danny whispered.

And this times their lips met perfectly.

* * * *

Fernando giggled. “Sergio, I have to get up.”

“I’m already up, come on,” Sergio pulled him back down to the bed and nuzzled his neck. In truth, Fernando was far stronger and could have gotten away easily, but Fernando willingly let Sergio pull him close, feeling his cock rub into his ass.

“Dr. Esteban told you to take it easy!” Fernando chuckled as Sergio’s hips worked.

“I need to do my rehabilitation,” Sergio said. “The legs won’t learn to walk again on their own!” He mimicked the nurse who specialized in rehab who had been brought in by Raul, but, not sadly, had to go back to London.

Fernando chuckled as Sergio worked up his night shirt. “I’m supposed to be serving breakfast. Carles glares when I’m late.”

“I’ll fire him,” Sergio decided as he angled his cock into Fernando.

Fernando adjusted to make the task easier, and they both groaned in pleasure.

“You..can’t fire Carles,” Fernando moaned. “Your father...won’t let you.”

“Screw him,” Sergio groaned into Fernando’s ear. But then the pointless argument ended as Sergio tugged on Fernando. “Here...you on top...”

“I’m going to hurt you,” Fernando panted, but as Sergio rolled to his back, Fernando found he could straddle him just...right... “Oh....fuuuuuckkk....”

Sergio gasped. “Oh, god. Nando... just...”

Words got lost as Fernando began to work himself up and down the shaft of Sergio’s cock. He knew he had to be careful as his back was still healing, but oh...he’d thought...he’d thought he’d never feel this again.

Tears streamed down both of their faces as they moved together. Bliss.

 

Chapter 42

Cesc reached on his tip toes to hang the last of the silver baubles on the tree. "There!"

He stood back to admire his handiwork, and Iker nodded his approval. "The best tree we've had in years."

In truth, it was the first tree they'd had since the war. Since their mother and oldest brother had died. 

But the war was over. The hospital at Bernabeu Hall was closed and the family had the house back to themselves. They had two weddings coming up soon, and more than enough reasons to celebrate this holiday season.

"I'd forgotten we had all these decorations," Iker commented as Gerard and Mesut appeared with more boxes.

"They've been up in the attic," Cesc said. "Fernando and I went searching last month and found all of this. All nice and neatly stored away."

"Mum always loved the holidays," Iker said a bit wistfully.

Cesc nodded and they had a moment of quiet remembrance.

"Do you want any of these in the sitting room?" Mesut asked as he opened the box to reveal a nativity.

"That would be nice," Cesc agreed and Mesut carried it off. He peered in the box Gerard had opened and found more baubles. "We may need another tree!"

Iker couldn't protest as Cesc sent Gerard to get Juan to go get them another tree to put up in the library.

"What time does Cristiano get here?" Cesc asked casually.

"He and his father and Fabio will be here at tea time," Iker said. 

"And they're staying through the holidays?" 

"Yes, for a fortnight," Iker said with a happy smile. Their wedding was to be this Spring, and after, Cristiano would move to Bernabeu Hall for good. Iker could not wait.

In truth, he was a little nervous for the holidays. Despite being engaged for over four years, he and Cris had done little more than kiss. While Iker knew this was all right and proper, he wanted to do so much more. Iker was planning to find some time for he and Cris to be alone. He blushed at the thought.

Cesc watched the happiness on Iker's face and his heart plummeted. He'd known for awhile now that Cristiano was not faithful to Iker. And he did know that some couples were happy enough for the other to have a lover, he knew Iker didn't know about Jose, and he knew how much Iker adored Cristiano.

Cesc had decided to never say anything. He knew Iker would be devastated, and for all Cesc knew, things had ended between Cristiano and Jose after the war had ended. Cristiano had resigned his commission from the army and spent much of his time at his father's house. Maybe it was okay. Maybe Iker never had to know.

* * * * 

Sergio crossed the lawn, trying hard not to lean on his cane. Dr. Esteban said he was making excellent progress, considering he wasn't able walk for over three years, and his muscles had deteriorated, but Sergio wanted to be free of the cane. It was bad enough that he was only allowed to ride a limited amount and never at a gallop. 

He made his way to the back steps and was forced to use his cane to mount them. Stairs. He needed to work on stairs more.

The back door opened as he arrived. 

"Get in here before you catch your death of cold." Fernando stood in the door way with his hands on his hips.

"I was taking a walk!"

"It is freezing out," Fernando said as he stepped back to let Sergio in, knowing the proud man would not want too much help.

Sergio paused to kiss him, no real malice in their exchange. "You can help warm me up."

"I have rooms to get ready. Your family is due."

Serigo sighed. "You don't have to be the maid any more."

"I don't mind it," Fernando insisted. "Besides, when we're married, we'll be moving anyway."

They'd had this argument before as well.

"To Oxford," Sergio said with a smile. Both of them were going to enroll at the university once they were married. His father was very relieved that Sergio had suggested it, but it was all, really, down to Fernando. Fernando had always dreamed of a university degree, and Sergio was happy to go wherever it would make Fernando happy. He also knew that Fernando did not like the idea of Sergio paying for everything, but had convinced him that they would do better together. And Raul was so ecstatic to have Sergio at university he was paying for the whole thing.

"I'll never earn a degree without you," he had said, and it was mostly the truth. Sergio didn't care to read, and even less to write.

"To Oxford,"Fernando smiled. "Now get upstairs and I'll bring you your tea."

"And biscuits," Sergio grinned.

"And biscuits."

 

 

Chapter 43

Cesc lay on his bed reading through the letters from Danny. After fully recovering from his wound, Danny's father has demanded his son return to Denmark. Cesc had been utterly heartbroken, as the two had just begun a secret romance. Possibly the worst kept secret in the house, but the two of them liked to pretend no one knew what they did when they took long walks every afternoon. 

It had been a tearful parting, and now there were letters several times a week. Cesc had read all of them over and over until the paper was nearly worn. A small photo of Danny sat by his bed.

Cesc sighed as he set the last letter down. Iker and Sergio both had their loves her this Christmas, and Cesc was all alone. He knew he had Danny's love, but he longed to hold him again. Sip mulled wine in front of a fire. 

And his worst fear was that Danny would forget him. His father was a prince, after all. The Danish courts were certainly full of eligible young ladies trying to catch the eye of a prince. Theirs had been a war time romance which would fade as the memory of the war did.

A tear slipped down Cesc's face.

* * * *

"You'll never guess who I've invited!" Guti said as Raul came down to breakfast the following morning. Luis, Fabio, and Cristiano had arrived the night before, and everyone was sleeping late. 

Everyone but Guti.

"Invited?" Raul asked as he poured himself some tea, his head aching a bit.

"To celebrate with us!"

Raul looked at his lover, wondering who Guti had to invite. His family was gone save for him, and his only friends save for Raul had been the people at the club. Guti talked about reopening now that the war was over, but Raul didn't think he'd actually do it. Guti had settled into life in the country and seemed content.

Guti looked exasperated at Raul's lack of response. "Lola!"

Raul frowned. "Lola?"

"Yes!" Guti said. "She said she might bring Lord Beckham as well. They won't arrive until Boxing Day, of course, but won't that be fun?"

"You might have asked me before issuing the invitation," Raul said mildly. In truth, Lola was not one of his favorite people. She could be loud and wholly inappropriate. And Lord Beckham, while an old family friend, has escaped the war in America, and from all accounts, profited hugely on it. He wasn't exactly welcomed with open arms in the drawing rooms of London these days, especially amongst those families who had lost sons to the war.

Guti rolled his eyes. "I thought I was supposed to treat this home as it were my own?"

"It is your home," Raul said as he sipped his tea. "But it is my home as well, and it would be nice to be warned. I had hoped to make this holiday a family affair."

"Lola is like family to me," Guti said coldly. 

"I'm sure she is," Raul said. "All I am saying is next time, warn me before issuing an invitation."

"If you don't want her, you can just say," Guti lashed out.

Raul set down his tea. "Guti, I'm not in the mood for a fight. My head aches. I'm going to lie down."

Guti held his tongue as Raul left. After all this time, he really was just a guest here. Maybe it was time for him to return to London.

* * * *

Iker woke up very warm, cozily snuggled in with Cristiano. Last night, he'd crept into Cristiano's room, to find him already asleep, certainly tired from his journey and late evening. So Iker had just snuggled in and happily gone to sleep.

Now he was awake and his heart was racing. Would Cristiano respond to his advances? Push him away and tell him they had to wait? And Iker had a sort of idea of what happened when you made love, but would Cristiano think he was any good?

He was fairly certain Cristiano had lovers before Iker, but it just wasn't something you spoke about. Iker had been so sheltered in life, even at university, he'd had Xabi watching over him an urging him to not rush into anything, even as Xabi had his own lover. They all seemed to think Iker was pure, and while he knew they meant it as a compliment, he just wanted to know he could please his husband.

"Good morning," Cristiano said and opened his eyes.

"Morning," Iker said. Go on. Kiss him or something. Put your hands on him.

Cristiano smiled. "I like it when you sleep here."

"I like it too," Iker said. DO IT.

"But I suppose you better get back before the house awakes and finds you here. I don't think either of our fathers would be pleased if they knew."

Iker's heart sank as his nerve ran out on him. "You're right."

"See you at breakfast?"

Iker forced a smile. "Sure."

* * * *

"Anyone home?" Bojan asked as he peered in the kitchens.

"When do they ever let me leave this kitchen?" Andy asked with a wide smile. "That bag better have my Christmas gift."

"Who said I got you anything?" Bojan laughed as he dropped his bag on the table.

"I thought all your soldiers were well paid," Andy countered playfully.

Bojan grinned, as he was paid to be a soldier, and given room and board, but it was hardly a glamourous life. When Cristiano had left, Bojan had been reassigned to a division in Birmingham. His commission was up soon, and he was on leave for the holidays.

"Fine, don't come say hello to your father."

Bojan scampered down the hall to the office Carles used. A wide smile spread across Carles's face as he embraced his son.

"How are you, Dad?" Bojan joked, though he squeezed him tightly. Through letters Carles had sent him through the war, Bojan had learned of why it had been kept a secret that Carles was Bojan's father. Both Carles and Bojan's mother had been only fifteen when Bojan was born. His grandfather had chased Carles away and he'd only gotten to see his son in a few stolen moments they'd been able to find as he was growing up. They'd agreed it best to never tell Bojan who Carles was lest the little boy slip in front of his grandfather and say something about his Daddy. By the time his grandfather had died, Carles had taken the position at Bernabeu, and this time for the protection of his job, Bojan had never been told.

It was so nice to not have secrets any more.

"I am well. Lord Raul says you are to have your old room while you visit."

"He's too kind," Bojan said, knowing that servants were generally not allowed to have guests. But Bojan supposed in a household where one of the sons was engaged to the maid, anything could happen.

"He is a good lord. Have you given any thought to what you'll do when you leave the army. You know Lord Raul is happy to have you back, especially as we will lose Fernando soon."

Bojan shook his head. His father was continually pressing this issue, but Bojan wasn't sure that he wanted to be a servant. He knew the life had been good to Carles, and it was good living, but Bojan wanted more. He wanted to live in a city, where he could work his day and then have time to see things and go places.

"I've got another month," Bojan said. "And Fernando doesn't leave until summer."

"Very well," Carles reluctantly agreed. "Now go unpack and I'll have Andy make us some tea."

Bojan scampered off, and Carles went back to his desk. He uncovered a letter he had received this morning, unsure what to do about it.

It was from the army. Apparently Sami, their old driver, had been drafted, but never turned up for duty. During the war, the army hadn't been able to follow up on all of these dodgers, but now that life was starting to return to normal, they were being tracked down and imprisoned.

The letter was asking if Carles or any of the staff knew of Sami's whereabouts. In truth, Carles had no idea where Sami was, but he had a feeling Mesut might at least have an idea. But he also knew that in the six months Mesut had been back with them, he had struggled to return to his usual cheer, and Carles did not want to bring the subject up or upset the young man any more if it was not necessary.

However, having watched his own son happily sign up to go to war, spent many sleepless nights worrying about him, the thought that Sami had dodged these responsibilities sickened Carles. Why was Sami better than Bojan? Should not every man equally bear the responsibilities of war?

With a sigh, Carles shoved the letter into the top drawer of his desk. He had enough to worry about.

 

Chapter 44

Iker finished his wine. He was nervous as hell and probably shouldn’t be letting Juan refill his glass.

“Are you alright?” Cristiano asked as there was a lull in the conversation. Fabio had been telling them about his life in America, and Cesc had, as usual, a hundred and one questions to ask.

Iker nodded quickly. “Fine.”

Cristiano squeezed his hand. “You look very handsome tonight.”

“Thank you,” Iker smiled.

“Shall we retire to the sitting room?” Raul asked as the last of the dessert dishes was cleared away.

They rose and Raul and Luis led the way out. Fabio and Cristiano were chatting with Cesc and Iker and Sergio lagged behind.

“What is with you?” Sergio asked as Iker looked pained.

Iker sighed. “I’m a useless man.”

“Okay?” Sergio said, “Where did that come from?”

“Cristiano doesn’t want me!”

“Uh, he doesn’t?” Sergio looked confused. “He’s marrying you, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Iker said. “But he doesn’t want to have sex with me!”

Sergio’s eyes got wide. “I think you and I need to talk.” He took Iker’s arm and guided him over to the library. “Juan, tell my father we’ll be a minute in joining them.”

Juan nodded and disappeared into the sitting room.

“Sit,” Sergio said as he went to pour them both glasses of whiskey. When he returned, Iker was twisting his hands. 

He took the glass. “I mean...we sleep together when ever he’s here, but he never...he never wants to...”

Sergio gaped at him. “You mean, you’ve never?”

“No!” Iker said, looking ashamed.

“Never...ever?” Sergio asked, astounded. “But...you were at university for three years!”

“I know,” Iker said. “But Xabi was forever pushing me to study, and I was home all the time.”

Sergio took a drink. “Okay. That’s fine. Not...everyone does.” He was trying not to judge, but fuck, Iker was twenty-five, for pity’s sake. This was 1918, not 1818.

“I thought we were waiting and it was fine, and with the war and everything, but I want to and I don’t think he wants me, I mean, shouldn’t he have tried something by now?”

“Well,” Sergio said, his head still reeling. He’d been having sex since he was fifteen. “I suppose it’s about the expectation. You and Cristiano weren’t a romantic match. At first it was just for show. And then you settled into a platonic relationship. Have you talked to him about...changing things?”

“No,” Iker said. “How...how do you bring that up?”

Sergio shrugged. “I don’t know. Every relationship I’ve ever been in started with sex.”

Iker gaped at him. “Really?”

Sergio grinned and ran his hand through his hair. “Sex is easier!”

“Are you and Fernando okay?” Iker asked.

“Oh, we’re fine,” Sergio said with a smile. “I just wish he’d come to dinner and quit cleaning the house!”

Iker smiled. “It’s a tough transition.”

“I know,” Sergio said. “But he’s going to be my husband. He doesn’t have to work any more.”

“One of you is going to have to work,” Iker said, “Don’t think Cristiano and I are supporting you.”

Sergio chuckled. “As soon as I explain to you, big brother, how to properly seduce a man, you’ll both be so grateful, you’ll be begging to support me.”

* * * *

Xavi poured himself a cup of tea. “Was there any apple crumble left?”

“I saved you some,” Andy said as he put away the last of the china and pulled a bowl down from the shelf.

“Bless you, Andy,” Xavi said with a smile. The staff was allowed any of the leftovers from the family’s meal, and Xavi always got to the kitchen last as he had to clean the dining room after dinner, so usually the best of it was gone. Andy tried to save him some when he could.

Xavi took his crumble and tea to the table where the others were finishing their meals.

Bo peered at it. “You sharing that?”

“No,” Xavi grinned as he pulled the bowl close even as he ladled himself some stew.

“Maybe if you’d put in a day’s work you could have some dessert,” Gerard said as he gave Bojan a look.

“I did so work today,” Bojan said. “I helped Mesut hang the laundry and helped Andy with the Christmas cake. I’m supposed to be on holiday!”

“Speaking of working, where were you all afternoon?” Carles said to Gerard.

Gerard looked at his stew. “You sent me into town to pick up the packages Lord Bernabeu ordered.”

“That never should have taken you three hours,” Carles said.

“I know what he was doing,” Juan said with a cheeky grin. “A certain barman down at the Bull?”

“What?” Carles asked, astonished.

“That’s none of your business!” Gerard snapped at Juan.

“His name is Victor,” Juan happily reported. “Maggie at the post office says she’s seen Gerard around with Victor every time he’s in town.”

“We were in the war together,” Gerard said. “He’s a friend.”

Juan gave a snort, but didn’t contradict him.

“Just for future reference, when I send you to town to do a job, you are not to spend the afternoon in the pub!” Carles said.

An argument was avoided when there was a knock at the kitchen door. Carles rose to answer it as Xavi dug into his crumble. 

Oh, Andy always got the tartest apples, Xavi thought as he savored the first mouthful.

“Can I help you?” Carles asked the well dressed stranger at the door.

“I’m here to see Xavi Hernandez- if he’s available?”

“Just a moment.”

Xavi looked up upon hearing his name. When Carles stepped back and he saw who it was, he nearly choked on his crumble.

Pep.

* * * *

Iker pulled off his dinner jacket and dropped it on the floor.

Cristiano looked at him, confusion registering on his face. “Iker?”

They’d retired, and usually, Iker went to his room and got ready for bed before sneaking in to Cristiano’s room.

But tonight Iker had followed him to his room and was undressing in front of him.

“Cristiano,” he said with a smile, hoping his shaking hands weren’t noticeable. Be direct, Sergio had said. 

Cristiano smiled as he realized what was happening. “I thought you wanted to wait.”

“I’ve been waiting for four and a half years,” Iker sighed. “I’m tired of waiting.”

He pulled down his braces and his trousers slid down his hips. Cristiano licked his lips. 

“Are you sure?” Cristiano said as he felt himself respond. He hadn’t seen Jose since returning home two months ago. There had been a few letters, but no discussion at all on where they stood. Maybe this was the right time. Make his commitment to his finance complete.

Iker nodded. “I’m ready.”

Cristiano stepped toward him. “Iker...have you ever...”

Iker shook his head, looking apprehensive.

Cristiano smiled warmly. “It’s fine,” he said as he pressed his lips to Iker’s for a soft kiss. “I like that you waited for me.”

Iker smiled as Cristiano shrugged off his own jacket.

“We’ll take it slow.”

They kissed again, and Iker’s heart raced. Cristiano did want him. And as Cristiano guided him to the bed, Iker felt like finally, everything in his life was right.

* * * *

Xavi abandoned his crumble and went to the door. He closed it behind him and his guest, and everyone at the table stared at it.

“Who was that?” Juan insisted.

“A friend of Xavi’s apparently,” Carles said as he sat.

“Did he give his name?” Juan pressed. “I didn’t think Xavi had any friends!!!!”

“It’s not our business,” Carles said sharply, still mad at Gerard.

Bojan was eyeing Xavi’s crumble. “He has a brother in London, but I don’t think they’re in touch.”

“Don’t eat his dessert,” Carles said. “And stay away from that door.”

Juan sat back down with a frown. “We’re concerned for him.”

“You are a gossiping snoop!”

Juan grinned. “Hush, Gerard, you always come to me for gossip.”

On the other side of the door, Xavi gaped at Pep.

“Don’t I get a hello kiss?” Pep asked with a wink.

“Why are you here?”

“Is that any way to greet your old lover.”

“What do you want?”

Pep reached for Xavi who backed away. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Xavi asked. “You leave me eight years ago and I don’t hear anything from you and then you write a letter which I don’t respond to so you just show up?”

“You didn’t want to come with me,” Pep said. 

“And you made your choice. You left me. You don’t get to come back.” Xavi was close to tears. “Don’t do this to me again. You broke my heart.”

Pep sighed. “I missed you. I’m back because I missed you.”

“No,” Xavi said as he reached for the door. “Go back to America. Go.”

“I still love you,” Pep begged. “Please, Xavi. Can’t we just talk?”

Xavi stopped as his tears fell. “Why?”

“Just...I want to talk.”

Xavi closed his eyes. It wouldn’t hurt to talk, would it? He took a deep breath. “Boxing Day. I’ll meet you at the Bull in the afternoon.”

Pep smiled. “Okay.”

“Please leave,” Xavi begged.

Pep did as he asked, disappearing back into the night.

Xavi leaned against the door as he tried to get control of himself. He was going to.

When finally he returned to the kitchen, his eyes were dry. He calmly sat down and began eating his apple crumble.

Everyone was staring at him. 

“Does anyone want more tea?” he asked as his had gotten cold.

Juan opened his mouth, but Bojan kicked him. “Yes,” Bojan said. “You eat. I’ll get it.”

“Thank you,” Xavi said.

“So,” Bojan said. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. What time is the service?”

And they left Xavi alone, reminding Xavi why this was his home, and Pep was his past.

 

Chapter 45

"I'll go get the post," Cesc said as he pulled on his driving gloves. He'd learned how to drive with the help of Stu, the nurse, and now made just about any excuse to go into town.

That and he was hoping for a letter or maybe even a gift from Danny. He'd not had one in a week, but the last one had promised a surprise in time for Christmas. 

"Can you stop and pick up Dr Esteban and Stu?" Raul asked as he looked up from the paper. "Neither of them are going to get home for the holidays and I invited them to stay for a couple of days."

"Sure," Cesc said with a grin. "We are going to have a whole house full!" He made his way to the back of the house.

"Can I catch a ride?" asked Gerard, stopping him in the corridor. "I need to post a parcel to my mum."

"Sure," Cesc said and Gerard went to grab his package and his coat.

Cesc went to start the car. It was a shiny new model his father had gotten just a month ago. They didn't have a driver right now, but since Cesc, Fernando, and Gerard could all drive, they hadn't really needed one. Cesc had been trying to talk Iker into learning, but he wouldn't go anywhere near the thing.

"Are you going to get to see your mum at all over the holidays," Cesc said, making conversation as he pulled away from the house. Gerard was clutching the box in his lap.

"Uh, no," Gerard said. "She lives...far away and has been ill."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Cesc said. "Have you had a chance at all to visit her? I'm sure Father would give you the time off!"

"It's fine," Gerard said quickly. "You're going to be working in London soon?"

"Yes," Cesc said, easily distracted. "I'm done with my exams and I've gotten a place at the Royal Kensington Hospital for my practical work. It's just around the corner from our London house."

"That's good," Gerard said. "Will Lord Bernabeu be going to London as well?"

"I don't think so. Maybe some. He and Iker have the wedding to get planned after all. He said he might just hire me a couple staff, but it seems silly all that for one person. I'll be at the hospital for so much of the time, anyway." Cesc chattered on and on.

"Maybe, if it's not too bold me suggesting," Gerard said, his mind whirling, "perhaps I could come down once a week or something and see to the cleaning of the house. That way you wouldn't have to employ more full time staff, but the cleaning and such could be taken care of since you will, after all, be so busy."

"That's not a bad idea!" Cesc said with a grin. "I'll mention it to father."

And I, Gerard thought, will have free passage to London every week.

They pulled to a stop in front of the post office. Cesc bounded out. "You coming?"

"I..." Gerard stalled, the package in his hand really not intended for posting. "If it's alright, sir, I'm going to go see a friend for a minute, and see if he has anything that wants posting?"

"Sure," Cesc said, utterly unsupsicious. "I might pop in the shop for a minute and buy some things. Meet you back here in say, half an hour?"

Gerard nodded. Cesc disappeared into the post office, and Gerard walked down to the Bull. Behind the bar, Victor was cleaning glasses, and smiled as Gerard entered. "Afternoon."

"Afternoon," Gerard greeted him. There were quite a few people in the pub, if being nearly a holiday, and the room was filled with good cheer. 

He set the box on the bar and unwound his scarf. "Blimey, I thought I wasn't going to get out of the house today."

"Hustle and bustle of holiday preparation?" Victor asked brightly as he pulled a pint for Gerard. No one was near them.

"Carles thinks I'm sneaking to town to see my lover."

"Well, you are," Victor grinned as he deftly moved the box under the bar. "He jealous?"

"Yes!" Gerard said.

"You haven't...resumed your relationship, have you?" Victor asked jealously.

"No," Gerard gave him a look. "But I do think I've found a way to get us to London reguarly at no cost to us," he said and told him of his conversation with Cesc.

"Nicely done, lover," Victor said. "Just for that, I might give you your present early."

"Mmm," Gerard smiled. "I wish. But Lord Cesc wants to get back."

"We still on for tomorrow?"

"Yes," Gerard said as he downed his pint, digging in his pocket for a coin. "Meet me behind the garage at 8 am. We have the morning off for the holiday. No one is using the room over the garage right now."

"Excellent," Victor said as he accepted the coin. "I have the whole day, so maybe I could spend the night as well?"

Gerard smiled. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

* * * *

Cesc picked up the post which did not include anything from Danny. Just a letter from an Aunt Cesc didn't know and something for Cristiano. He knew letters to and from Denmark took awhile, but felt sure something should have come for him.

Depressed, he wandered out, past the train station and down to the store. He had a few pence, maybe he could get some sweets. He was twenty one, but he'd still not lost his childish love of sugary treats.

He stopped in and the shopkeeper smiled. Cesc filled a penny sack of cinnamon and liqorice drops and left his spare change in the charity tin. His face full of candy, he made his way back to where the car was parked.

As he passed the train station again, he saw the afternoon train from London had arrived. Gerard was no where to be seen, probably in the post office, so he paused to watch the people disembark. The crowd was sparse, not too many people traveling to the town on Christmas eve, but as the people parted, Cesc saw a familar face.

"Danny!"

The Danish prince turned his head and spotted Cesc. With a wide grin he ran across the platform.

"Surprise!" Danny said as he threw his arms around Cesc.

"Oh my god!" Cesc cried out in joy. "What are you doing here!"

"I promised you a Christmas surprise!" Danny said. "Surprise!"

"OH!" Cesc squeezed him tight. "Oh, I've missed you!"

"Were you waiting for someone?" Danny asked. "There was a man on the train I talked to- he asked if I knew the family."

Cesc shook his head. "No, just getting the post. I was expecting a parcel not a person!"

"I hope you're not disappointed?" Danny teased, his green eyes dancing. 

"Never," Cesc assured him. "Oh!"

Danny hugged him again, and he and Cesc went to get his luggage. HIs father had allowed him a trip to London, and Danny had not mentioned he was planning to spend his stay at Bernabeu. Danny was really hoping he could secure a position in London soon, so that he could move back and he and Cesc could be together.

"I know I'm a Prince and all, but I don’t want to just be a prince. I want to do something with my life.”

Cesc nodded. “I know. I think if it hadn’t been for the war, my father would still have me in short pants.”

“Eating sweets?” Danny teased as Cesc offered him the packet.

Cesc giggled. “I like them.”

They made their way back to the car where Gerard was waiting, smoking a cigarette.

“Oh,” Cesc said, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to pick up Esteban and Stu as well. The car only sat four.

Gerard, who had never met Danny, looked at the man curiously. 

“Gerard,” Cesc said. “Can you take the car and get Dr. Esteban and Stu, and then come back to collect us?”

“Sure,” Gerard agreed as he stubbed out his cigarette.

“Oh, and give this to Iker,” Cesc said as he handed over Cristiano’s letter.

“Sure,” Gerard said as he tucked the letter in his pocket.

“Come on,” Cesc said to Danny. And forgetting he’d spent the last of his coins on sweets, added. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

* * * *

“Lord Cesc is in town with a guest,” Gerard told Iker when he went to hand him the letter.

“A guest?” Iker asked. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t introduced. Young man, about Cesc’s age. He seemed very pleased to see him.”

Iker frowned as he tore open the letter without looking at it. “Are you going to collect them?”

“I am,” Gerard said as he disappeared.

Iker’s eyes fell on the letter, which began, “My dearest....” He quickly realized it was not a letter for him. It was for Cristiano. And it was a love letter.

From Jose Mourinho.

Iker folded it up quickly. It wasn’t for him to see. He...

“I thought Cesc was coming back? He said he’d play me at chess,” Cristiano said as he stepped into the sitting room.

“This is yours,” Iker said as he shoved the letter at Cristiano. “I didn’t mean to open it.”

Cristiano frowned and took the page. As he looked at it, horror filled his heart. He looked up at Iker, eyes wide.

Iker’s eyes were full of tears. “I didn’t mean to read it. I thought it was mine. I’m sorry.”

“You’re...sorry?” 

“I shouldn’t have read it. It’s not my business.”

Cristiano realized that Iker was apologizing to him for seeing the evidence of his infidelity. 

“It’s not my business,” Iker repeated with a choking sob. “I...”

“Iker,” Cristiano cut him off. “It’s me who is sorry.”

Iker shook his head. 

“Iker, stop,” Cristiano said. “It’s me who is sorry. I meant to end things with Jose, and I should have long before now.”

“How long...” Iker asked in a whisper.

Cristiano sighed. “For a long time. But I’m with you.”

“Because you have to be,” Iker said with a sob. “You never wanted me, did you? You’re just with me because you felt obligated.”

“No, Iker, no!”

Iker ran from the room. Cristiano was in love with Jose. And Iker was a complete idiot.

* * * *

Cesc ran into the house with Danny in tow. “Father! Look who’s come to stay!”

Raul stood as Cesc dragged in the Danish prince. “Danny!”

“I’m sorry to burst in like this,” Danny said as he shook Lord Bernabeu’s hand. “But I wanted to surprise Cesc.”

“And a wonderful surprise indeed,” Raul said as he watched Cesc’s face splitting with a smile. In truth, he had very high hopes indeed that Cesc would marry Danny, but he knew that Danny’s father might have other ideas. Danny was a third son, but still not entitled to marry whoever he liked.  
“I think Cesc’s Christmas is made,” Guti agreed.

Sergio hugged Danny. “I’ll ring Carles and have a room prepared.”

“Oh, this day can’t get any better,” Cesc gushed.

“Stu and Dr. Esteban are settling in. We’ll have dinner at about eight?” Raul said. “I’m sure you want to relax a bit after your journey.

Danny nodded and let Cesc drag him upstairs.

* * * *

Everyone was assembled in the drawing room for pre dinner drinks at about seven thirty, except for Iker.

“Sir, Iker sends his regrets,” Carles informed the party. “He’s not feeling well.”

Across the room, Cristiano looked pained. He’d begged Iker to talk to him, but Iker was mute. After last night, after he and Iker had made their love real, physical, and this. He was such a fool.

Fabio was giving him a look which Cristiano ignored. 

“Can you send him up something?” Raul asked. “I’ll check on him in a bit.”

Carles nodded and withdrew.

Cesc frowned. “He was fine this morning. Giddy in fact.”

“I’ll go up, Father,” Sergio offered.

But before a decision could be made, the front door bell rang.

“Now who could that possibly be?” Raul asked. “Everyone I know is here!”

There was a chuckle of agreement as they awaited for the guest to be announced.

A few moments later, an ashen faced Carles appeared.

“My Lord...it’s...”

But he didn’t need to finish, as from behind him, a figure appeared in the door.

Raul’s jaw dropped.

“Xabi?”

 

Chapter 46

his is for darling acrayonsmile, who basically wrote Xabi's story. MWAH.

 

There was silence in the room.

Raul stood up. "It can't...Xabi?"

"Yes Father, it's me," Xabi said with a smile.

"How...?" Raul began but the thought died on his lips. "Where have you been?"

"America," Xabi said honestly. "I had some things I needed to deal with."

"You're dead!" Cesc said stupidly.

Danny, confused at who this was, Cesc only ever briefly mentioned a brother who had died, put a suportive arm around him.

"Can I speak with you, Father?" Xabi asked, all the eyes in the room, many of them unfamilar, making him nervous.

"Yes," Raul said. "Yes."

Raul approached Xabi, meaning to lead him to the library, when suddenly he found himself hugging him tightly. 

Xabi clung to his father, tears springing to his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Father."

"You're here," Raul said with a choking sob. "It's all I ever wanted."

Finally, they let go and moved to the corridor, leaving the stunned room.

Cristiano looked around, his mind in ten directions. "I have to go tell Iker."

"Yes," Sergio said. "Yes!" He let out a bark of laughter and the tension in the room broke. 

Xabi was alive!

"I need another drink," Cesc said as his face wearing a wide grin.

"I was thinking maybe I'd had too many," Fabio laughed.

The room filled with chatter, and Cristiano stood to go check on Iker. He needed to be the one to tell him.

Because everything had just changed and Cristiano feared that this might cost him Iker for good.

* * * *

Raul filled two tumblers of his best Irish whiskey and handed one to Xabi, his hands shaking.

Xabi took a sip to steady himself. "I had meant to come home before now," he began.

Raul nodded, willing himself not to butt in with his questions. 

Xabi took a breath. "When the Titanic went down, I was drunk. There was such panic, everyone running and screaming and trying to get away. Mother had gone to bed early, having a headache, but I was in the bar. I tried to find her, but I was drunk and lost amongst the chaos. I should have tried harder..."

His voice broke and Raul put his arm around him.

"I should have saved her," Xabi said. "I..."

"No," Raul insisted. "No, it was a disaster, I'm sure you did what you could."

Xabi shook his head. "I passed out. The next thing I knew I was on the deck of The Carpathia. I searched for Mother, but she was gone."

The pain of losing his wife hit Raul all over again and tears streamed down his cheeks.

"They asked for my name, and I lied. I..." Xabi's face was pained. "I was a drunk coward and I didn't want them to know. When we arrived in New York, I disappeared into the streets. I'm sure I was in shock, but I just didn't want to go back to what I knew. I couldn't face you having let Mother die."

"You didn't," Raul assured him again. "Oh, Xabi, we never could have blamed you."

"I know," Xabi said. "I...should have known, but I just felt so guilty. I was supposed to be going to New York to find a rich heiress to marry, and I didn't want to. I wanted..."

Raul closed his eyes. "Steven."

Xabi nodded. "I wanted to be with him and I didn't want to be responsible for the family. I was selfish, I know that. I'm sorry I was so selfish."

"I'm sorry we put that pressure on you," Raul said, thinking now of Iker. How it all had fallen to Iker.

"No, it was right. This family is my responsibility and I have ignored that for so long. So I was in New York feeling like a failure, and finally after about six drunken months, decided that I needed to get myself together, and come home. Take my responsibilities like a man." Xabi took a drink before continuing.

"But then the war started, and it became difficult to book passage to Europe. That was my excuse anyway. So I started to work. I got the job in the back office of an exports company for an immigrant businessman who realized right away I'd come from a good family. But he didn't ask questions, and I quickly moved up in the business. The war was good to us. I eventually became a partner, and I did quite well when we sold the whole thing out last month."

Raul looked at him. "You sold your business?"

"I did," Xabi said proudly. "And now I am here to give you this." He reached into his pocket and handed Raul a cheque for a figure that made Raul's jaw drop.

"This is yours?" Raul asked.

"No," Xabi shook his head. "It's for the family. I went to America to replenish the family fortunes, and I have."

Raul shook his head. "The money...the money was never important..."

"I know," Xabi said. "But here it is."

Raul accepted the cheque without a word. "But...."

"I needed an heir before I was thirty?" Xabi asked with a smile. "His name is Jon. He's staying at the pub in town with his nanny. His mother is living happily with her lover in California."

"You're married?"

"On paper, yes," Xabi shrugged. "His mother is a friend of mine. One night we got drunk and I ended up telling her the whole story. She decided to help." Xabi grinned. "I have a wife and a son. We have a fortune."

Raul shook his head. "All I wanted was you, my son."

"I know," Xabi said with a smile as Raul cupped the side of his face with his hand. "But I had to prove myself. To myself."

Raul understood this sentiment. "Can we meet your son?"

"I'll go get him," Xabi said as he stood.

Raul stood and embraced Xabi again. "I love you."

"I love you too, Father."

* * * *

Cristiano knocked lightly on Iker's door. Xabi was alive. Iker no longer had to marry Cristiano to save the family.

The thought filled Cristiano with dread. He couldn't lose Iker. It had nothing to do with family or property. He needed Iker. Iker centered him and kept him sane. Cristiano had seen horrors, knew too much about the corruption of governments. Iker knew none of this. 

There was no answer.

Cristiano knocked again. "Iker, I need to speak with you."

"Go away."

"Iker, please. Please..." Cristiano tried the handle and found it unlocked. He opened it and found Iker lying face down on his bed, face streaked with tears. And Cristiano realized he had to make things right with Iker before he knew about Xabi.

"Go away," Iker said, closing his eyes tightly.

"Please," Cristiano said again. "I've hurt you and I cannot bear it."

Iker did not respond and Cristiano moved to sit on the bed, his fingers itching to reach out and comfort. Finally, he gave in and wrapped a finger around one of the curls at Iker's neck.

"I was never with Jose because I didn't want to be with you," Cristiano began as he lightly twisted the hair. "I know we started this because we felt we had to for the good of the family, but you have become so dear to me." Cristiano began to stroke Iker's neck. "And last night was wonderful, you know that? I've been with other men, but with you...Oh Iker," he said tearfully. "It wasn't sexy or well planned or anything they say it should be, but it was better than anything else I've ever had because it was you."

"Is that your nice way of saying I'm rubbish at sex?"

"No!" Cristiano cried out. "No, no, baby, you're not rubbish. You're inexperienced....and I want to be there when you learn."

Iker opened his eyes. "You can keep Jose, if you want."

"No," Cristiano said as he leaned down to press his forehead into Iker's. "Jose is done. I'm finished with him. From now on it's only you for me. No matter what happens."

Iker sniffled. "I love you."

"Oh, Iker, I love you. So much," Cristiano said as he laid down with Iker and held him tight. "No matter what."

Iker clung to him, his tears fresh, but his heart lightened immeasurably. 

After several long moments, Cristiano knew he had let go. "As much as I want to lie here and hold you forever, you need to come downstairs."

"What is it?" Iker asked. 

Cristiano took a breath. "It's your brother Xabi. He's alive."

 

Chapter 47

As soon as Cristiano returned downstairs with Iker, his father cornered him.

In a low voice, he asked, "Surely Xabi cannot expect to waltz back in here like he hasn't been gone for five years and expect you to just give up the inheritance!"

Cristiano, his mind so consumed with keeping Iker, gazed at his father. "It is his right."

"Bullshit. You have changed the path of your life due to the fact that he was dead. You've passed up opportunities and are marrying Iker!"

Cristiano sighed, for it was true that Cristiano had passed up chances to get himself further involved in politics which could help advance his career. He'd fully expected that after the wedding he would live at Bernabeu with Iker and Raul, and learn about running the estate. He didn't even want the political career he'd passed up, however. He wanted to raise a herd of heirs with Iker.

"I still want to marry Iker. I love him."

Luis sighed. "That marriage brings us no advantages any more. For you or Iker."

Cristiano regarded his father coldly. "I love him and I will not give him up."

Luis dismissed his sentimentality. "Do you honestly think Iker is suited for the life as the spouse of a politician? Or that you will be allowed to live here with Xabi as heir? If you want to keep Iker, you better fight for this inheritance."

"Cris!" Iker said as he came to claim him, such a wide smile on his face. "Sergio says that Xabi has gone to town to collect his son! I'm an uncle as well!"

"An heir?" Luis asked, dumbfounded.

"An heir!" Iker laughed, missing the significance entirely. 

Carles stood in the door; he was trying to keep his face impassive as was proper, but there was joy on is face. "Shall we wait dinner?"

"Yes," Raul said as he beamed. "Xabi will be back soon, but we will have to fuss over little Jon, I am sure, before we eat."

"Oh, a baby in the house," Cesc squealed. 

Danny was laughing at him, having been quickly filled in on Xabi. Only Raul knew the whole tale at the moment, but he was sure Xabi would fill them in on most of it over dinner.

Raul turned to Carles, "Have you told everyone downstairs?"

"I was just going to, sir," Carles replied. "Everyone will be so pleased."

"Then go! Tell them, and break out the champagne!"

* * * *

"What's the commotion?" Bojan asked as he peered up the stairs. He was wearing his uniform as extra hands were going to be needed to serve everyone the large Christmas Eve meal. Bojan didn't mind. He liked being a part of things.

"Too much drink?" Juan speculated as he loaded a tray with the first course.

Carles appeared. "Put a hold on that, Juan. Dinner is going to be delayed."

"Delayed?" Andy yelped. "But the soup will go cold!"

"I think this once we'll be okay," Carles said. "We have an extra guest."

"WHY DOES NO ONE TELL ME THESE THINGS?" Andy wailed.

"Who is it?" Bojan asked.

"It appears Lord Xabi didn't go down on the Titanic after all."

There was a moment of silence and then from the other end of the kitchen, Fernando let out a shout of delight.

"He's here?!"

"He's just run to town to collect his son, but yes, he will be right back," Carles reported.

"His son!" Gerard was staring.

"I..." Fernando had raced toward the stairs, but came to a stop.

"Go," Carles told him. "This is your family, you shouldn't still be serving anyway."

Fernando took the stairs two at a time, bursting out of the basement and ran to find Sergio.

"This may be the best Christmas ever," Bojan gushed.

Mesut had a smile on his face, but there was sadness in his eyes. "I wish Sami was here."

Juan went to him, putting an arm around Mesut. "We all miss him."

"Have you heard from him at all," Xavi said, daring the broach the subject. This was the first time Mesut had mentioned him.

"No," Mesut shook his head.

The phone rang upstairs, and Carles went to get it, again thinking it would be nice to have a telephone in the downstairs. He made his way to the phone and picked it up.

"Bernabeu Hall."

"Good evening, sir," said the woman on the line. "We hate to intrude on this holiday eve, but is there a Mesut Ozil who works in this house?"

"There is. Who is calling?"

"This is the Royal Manchester Hospital," the woman said. "A man named Sami Khedria is here. He's been seriously hurt, and we found Mr. Ozil's name with his belongings. Is Mr. Ozil a relative?"

"How badly hurt?" Carles demanded. 

"I'm afraid very badly. He was involved in some kind of brawl and he's badly beaten. He's not conscious, and the doctor isn't sure he's going to survive."

Carles's heart fell. "I will inform Mr. Ozil at once. Will he be allowed to visit?"

"I can't say for sure," the woman said apologetically. "It will depend on the state of him when Mr. Ozil arrives."

"Thank you," Carles said before setting the phone down.

So much for a happy Christmas.

 

Chapter 48

Mesut stared into the inky black night. The landscape was silent as the miles went past his unseeing eyes. Sami- beaten up.

Mesut had an idea who had done it. Sami was forever riling up the workers: demanding better working conditions and pay. The owners, while they knew they needed the workers, didn't see why they should be paying them so much. Sami was a nuisance. 

He's still alive, Mesut reminded himself as he despaired. Well, he had been hours ago when Carles had taken the call. When Mesut had been told, of course he wanted to go and see him. Lord Bernabeu had been concerned, and allowed Gerard to drive Mesut up to Manchester that very night. The car was full of petrol, and would get them there. He'd even given Gerard money to put petrol in the car to come home again and permission for Mesut to stay if he needed.

They look after me, Mesut thought tearfully. Why could Sami never see this? Never understand that money and his so-called freedom weren't everything? Mesut was cared for, and he was happy.

As happy as he could be without Sami.

Why couldn't Sami come home and they could be happy like they were before?

Dawn was beginning to show as they arrived at the Royal Manchester Hospital. 

"I'll leave you here and go get petrol. Do you need anything?" Gerard asked.

Mesut shook his head as he got out. "Just to see Sami."

"I'll come and find you," Gerard promised. He knew the army base would be open and he could get the needed petrol despite the holiday. He could use his military ID and fill up for free.

Mesut went inside the quiet hospital. There were only a few staff on this quiet Christmas morning, and Mesut was quickly shown to Sami's room.

Seeing his beloved, face battered, eyes swollen, Mesut nearly broke down.

"He awoke a few hours ago," the nurse told him quietly. The doctors were able to set his broken arm, and they are hopeful."

Mesut thanked her and moved to sit at Sami's side. The stark white of the ward made Sami's usually tanned face look even paler. Sami's left arm was in a sling, Mesut saw now, and he gently took his right hand.

Sami's eyes fluttered open. "Mesut?"

"I'm here, Sami."

"Mesut..." he began again, but Mesut shushed him.

"Rest," Mesut said. "I'm here."

"No," Sami said as he struggled to sit up. "We have to get out of here."

"What? Why? It's a hospital. You're safe."

"No" Sami insisted. "They're after me. The police."

"The police did this to you?" Mesut asked, alarmed. 

"No. Listen," Sami insisted, his brown eyes wild. "The factory bosses had me beat up, but that's done. The police are after me and they will find me here."

"What did you do?" Mesut asked as he gripped Sami's hand. He winced, and Mesut let go.

"I burned my draft letter," Sami said. "I was drafted about a year ago and I didn't go."

"A year ago!" Mesut exclaimed. "You never said!"

"I know," Sami couldn't meet his eyes. "You know how I felt about that, but I knew if I told you, you'd made me go."

"Oh Sami."

"I thought I was in the clear. No one ever came for me, and I thought with the war over, it was done, but I heard this week that the police are coming to round us all up and they'll have me hung, Mesut."

"Oh Sami," Mesut repeated. "Why do you make everything difficult!"

"I'm not being difficult!" Sami insisted. "The war was wrong. A man has a right to not fight if he doesn't believe in something."

Mesut was silent. They'd had this argument countless times. Finally, he said. "What can we do?"

"How did you get here?" Sami asked.

"Gerard drove me," Mesut said. "He's gone to fill the car and then check on me."

"We can go then!" Sami said, his eyes bright with excitement. "You can distract the nurse and we can escape."

"And go where?" Mesut moaned. "Where?"

"Back to Bernabeu! You're always saying that they take care of us, so this time they can. You can tell them I was released and they'll never know where I've gone."

"Yes they will," Mesut said. "They found me, there, they can find you, too."

Sami's face fell. 

Mesut sighed. He shouldn't suggest this, but he was going to. "You could hide. We could say you'd died or something and we could hide you in the garage apartment. No one lives there now."

Sami grinned. "I love you, Mes."

"I love you."

Sami laid back down and pretended to sleep while they waited for Gerard. Mesut fretted. Should they move him? The nurse said they were hopeful, but what if there was something seriously wrong with Sami?

Gerard appeared. He easily agreed to participate in the heist, and went to go distract the nurse.

"So how did you get stuck working today?" Gerard asked the pretty young woman.

She smiled at him. "I offered. Better than a holiday with my dad who's a drunk and my brother who's a criminal."

"Sounds like a fun time," Gerard agreed charmingly. "I'm Gerard by the way."

"Hi Gerard, I'm Eliza," she said. "So what brings you here today?"

"Work," Gerard sighed, envoking her pity. He changed the subject, too well practiced in this sort of thing to admit more than he had to. "Do you know what I'd love?"

"What?" Eliza asked.

"A cup of tea," Gerard tried to look pitiful. "I've not even had breakfast."

"Then you shall have some," the nurse insisted. "I'll put the kettle on and see what I can find for you to eat."

"You're so kind," Gerard replied. 

The moment Nurse Eliza was out of the room, he gestured to Mesut in the ward. Mesut carefully helped Sami to his feet and together, they made slow progress across the room to the door.

"Have you got honey for the tea?" Gerard called, hoping to stall the nurse.

"Honey!" she called back. "In your dreams. I might be able to spare you a lump of sugar."

Gerard moved to stand by the door she had exited through, motioning Mesut to hurry. Sami was unsteady on his feet, and they stumbled more than once.

An eternity later, Mesut and Sami were out the door, and Gerard relaxed.

"There you are," Eliza said as she returned with a steaming cup and a plate with some bread and jam on it.

"You are so sweet," Gerard said as he accepted it.

Fifteen minutes later, Gerard exited the hospital, not a care in the world. He sauntered over to the car where a frantic looking Mesut was cradling Sami.

"What took you so long!" Mesut hissed.

"I couldn't very well just bolt out of there!" Gerard said. "She'd have been suspicious in a minute. Now she's day dreaming of our date tomorrow and won't even think to look in since she expect that you are looking over Sami."

"You asked her on a date!" Mesut squeaked.

Gerard rolled his eyes as he started the car. "People will do anything for you if they think you're going to put out."

The drive home seemed to take an eternity. Mesut held Sami the whole way as he slept fitfully. He's got some internal injury and we're making it worse, thought Mesut. He's going to die.

But when they got home, Sami was able to make it up the stairs to the bed they'd shared, and upon entering the room, he was more than a little shocked to see a man in the bed.

"Who are you!" Mesut yelled.

"Shut up, he's a friend," Gerard said as he pushed past them. "Sorry, Vic- change of plans."

"Where have you been?" Victor asked petulantly. He'd been here all morning waiting for Gerard who'd just now turned up.

"Long story," Gerard said and looked at Mesut. "I never saw Sami and you never saw my friend, alright?"

"Sure," Mesut agreed, not actually caring who the man was. He got Sami settled in the bed. "I'm going to get you some tea. Are you hungry?"

"Not really," Sami said. "I think I just need to rest."

"Okay," Mesut agreed. "You stay."

"I got no where to go."

Mesut scampered to the house and in the back door. Bojan was sitting at the kitchen table with a book. "Mesut! How's Sami!"

Mesut looked at Bojan, knowing the plan was to let no one know Sami was here, but Gerard wouldn't be much help in looking after Sami, and Mesut would have to get on with his work, not leaving him much time to see to Sami. Bojan was here through the new year and didn't have to work.

"Bo, I need your help."

 

Chapter 49

Cesc sat on the floor with Jon. He’d unearthed old toys from the nursery and brought them down. Generally, it wasn’t on for children to be in the sitting room. Children lived in the nursery, but it was Christmas, and everyone was besotted with the smiling little toddler.

“Block,” Cesc said as he handed over a wooden toy.

“BOCK,” Jon repeated.

“Yes!” Cesc praised. “Xabi, he’s a genius.”

Xabi laughed. “I’m fairly certain he already knew that one.”

Cesc frowned. “Cesc,” he said and pointed to himself.

Jon looked confused. 

Cesc tried again. “Cesc.” He pointed to himself. Then he pointed to Jon. “Jon.” And then at Xabi. “Dada.”

“DADA!” Jon yelled happily and went to his father.

“Oh well,” Sergio laughed at Cesc’s crestfallen appearance. “He can’t learn everything today.”

“He’s such a delight,” Iker said with a sigh as Xabi scooped up his son and sat him on his knee.

Cristiano grinned. “Iker wants babies yesterday.”

“I do,” Iker laughed. “I want a dozen and I want them like little stair steps lined up in the nursery, so I have a strong young son to teach and a little baby girl to cuddle.”

“So when is the wedding?” Xabi asked as he set Jon down again as the actively little boy wanted to get back to his games.

“April,” Iker said as he took Cristiano’s hand. “April 30th.”

“Won’t that be lovely,” Xabi smiled. “You two have to tell me everything about your courtship.”

There was a moment of strained silence. Thankfully, Luis had retired for an afternoon nap, and Fabio was uninterested in starting a family drama.

Cristiano jumped to the rescue. “I love him. That’s all that matters.”

Iker beamed at him, and Raul relaxed. Raul knew that there was a mess on their hands, but he was not going to think about it today. Xabi was alive! He had a darling son, and his boys were all here, healthy and happy.

“Are you crying?” Guti asked in a low voice as Cesc and Jon built a castle.

Raul sniffled a little. “No.”

Guti beamed. “Oh, baby, it’s all going to be fine.”

“It’s perfect,” Raul said. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

* * * *

Bojan looked at Sami’s flushed and sweaty face and knew something was wrong. Sami was moaning in his sleep and Bojan hadn’t been able to wake him.

He rushed to the house to see Mesut.

Mesut was piling things for tea on his tray. “Mes, Sami’s not well.”

Mesut faltered, nearly dropping a china milk pitcher. “How?”

“I think he has a fever,” Bo wrung his hands. He’d seen this kind of thing in the war. It wasn’t usually the bullets that killed a man, it was the infection that came after.

“What can we do?” Mesut fretted.

“I don’t know,” Bo said. “We need a doctor.”

“We can’t!” Mesut wailed. “No one can know he’s here.”

“Lord Cesc is nearly qualified,” Bo reminded him. “Cesc can keep a secret.”

“No,” Mesut shook his head wildly. “No, because....the police...”

“What about the police?” Carles asked as he arrived with the tea pots.

“Nothing!” Mesut said. “Must get the tea on!” He started to pick up the tray, and Carles frowned at him.

“Don’t you need the tea?”

* * * *

Everyone retired after tea for a rest before dinner. Cesc went to his room, wired. He didn’t need rest. He was so happy right now he might burst.

Checking the corridor was clear, Cesc scampered down to Danny’s room. He tapped lightly.

“Come in.”

Cesc peer in and found Danny propped up on his bed with a book. He smiled at Cesc. 

“You resting?” Cesc asked.

“I should be,” Danny said even as he closed his book. Cesc closed the door behind him and came over to the bed. He shed his jacket and shoes as Danny moved over to make room, and Cesc climbed in.

“Mmm,” Cesc sighed as he snuggled next to Danny. “I missed you so much. Never go back to Denmark again.”

Danny wrapped his arms around him. “I will have to.”

“No,” Cesc squeezed. “I am kidnapping you. You can never go again.”

Danny stroked Cesc’s head. “I wish. I wish I could stay forever, with you.”

“Stay,” Cesc begged again. “We can be married.”

Danny closed his eyes. “I want to, Cesc. You know that. You know you are everything to me.”

“I’m from a good family,” Cesc whined. “I’ll make a good husband.”

Danny moved in to kiss Cesc, eager to end the debate. His father would never stand for Danny to marry a man, no matter how wonderful he was. They were royals, and their children had to be royal. And there was no way they were getting a surrogate who was royal. No. Danny’s wife would have to bear his children.

But as he kissed Cesc, desire growing, he knew that it would make him miserable to marry another. He needed Cesc. Cesc who made him laugh. Cesc who listened to his ideas. Cesc who was as beautiful as he was good.

Cesc moaned as Danny rolled him on to his back. Oh yes, Cesc thought as he spread his legs and let Danny settle between them. He’d missed touching Danny, Danny touching him. Desperate kisses that promised so much more. They’d always held back, but Cesc wanted more. He wanted it all. He wanted Danny.

But even as Danny kissed and touched Cesc, Cesc began to get frustrated. “Danny...” he begged as he rubbed his cock into Danny’s hip. “Please.”

Danny took a ragged breath and looked down at the flushed man beneath him. “Not now...” Danny said as he rolled off of Cesc.

“Now,” Cesc demanded as he pinned Danny to the bed, angling his hips down into Danny, rubbing against his cock.

Danny groaned. “It’s nearly time for dinner.”

“We have an hour,” Cesc tugged at Danny’s clothes. “Does....does this take more than an hour?”

Danny laughed breathlessly. “It can take however long we want.”

Cesc got Danny’s shirt open and rubbed his face against Danny’s chest. “Please, Danny.”

Danny’s feeble protests ended as he began to unbutton Cesc’s shirt. What was he waiting for, anyway?

You didn’t want to go here with him because you know as soon as you do, you’re never going to be able to walk away from him.

Clothing was shed, and Cesc was mindless with his desire. “Tell me...” he said. “Tell me if I do something...wrong.”

Danny nodded, though his own experience was fairly limited. Teenage fumbles. Nothing that meant anything. Not like this.

“Do you want...” Danny asked as he fondles Cesc’s ass.

“I...” Cesc stuttered. He did...maybe... “I...”

“Okay,” Danny said as his hand slid around to Cesc’s cock. Danny was afraid of hurting Cesc, like he knew you could if you didn’t do it right. Next time.

“I’m sorry,” Cesc said even as he gasped.

“No,” Danny said as he guided Cesc’s hand to his own cock. “No. Later.”

“Okay,” Cesc said as he stroked Danny. He couldn’t think as he lay, stroking Danny, Danny’s hand on his own cock. He wanted everything and all of this and “Danny.”

“Shhh,” Danny breathed even as he had to keep himself from making too much noise.

There was little finesse in the act, but the mutual desire more than made up for the lack of technique. Cesc came hard in Danny’s hand, and with a little help from Danny, Cesc was able to make Danny cum as well.

“Oh my god,” Cesc moaned thought the after shocks.

“Oh Cesc,” Danny sighed as he pulled close to his lover. “Oh, Cesc, I love you.”

“Never leave me,” Cesc begged. “I need you.”

Danny felt tears in his eyes. “I need you too.”

He’d find a way for them to be together, Danny vowed. Even if it meant defying his father.

* * * *

When Bojan went to check on Sami again an hour later, he was worse. He wiped Sami’s forehead with a cool cloth. They needed a doctor.

Bojan considered consulting Mesut again, but the maid was busy with dinner. Carles had refused to let Fernando help, insisting he be with the family. Bojan was meant to be helping as well, but he slipped back into the house and up the back stairs.

He ran into Cesc in the corridor, sneaking back to his room. Bojan was too worried to question, even as Cesc was half dressed and disheveled. 

“Bo!” Cesc said. 

“Cesc, I need your help,” Bojan begged. 

“Are you okay?” Cesc asked, concerned.

“Not me,” Bojan said. “It’s Sami.”

“Sami?” Cesc was confused. “But he’s....”

“Please Cesc, just come.”

“Just a minute,” Cesc said as he went to his room to put himself back together.

Bojan fidgeted. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Sami’s not supposed to be here.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Cesc asked as he dressed.

“He’s got a fever. He was beat up,” Bojan said, trying not to explain.

“Why isn’t he at hospital?” Cesc demanded.

“We can’t. He’s in trouble. Please Cesc. Don’t ask, okay?”

Cesc frowned, but did not press as he followed Bojan out to the back and up the garage stairs, carrying his medical bag.

The moment he looked at Sami, he knew it was bad. “How long has he been like this?”

“A couple hours. He was fine when Mesut brought him here. I mean...you know...not like this.”

Cesc looked Sami over, taking his pulse and feeling his forehead. “I thought Mesut left him in Manchester. That it wasn’t bad?”

“Cesc,” Bojan begged again. “He’s wanted by the police. Mesut thought he’d be okay to just recover. He didn’t even want to ask you, but...”

Cesc checked Sami’s eyes and saw the delirium. “Get Mesut.”

Bojan went running, panicked. 

What were they going to do if Sami died?

 

 

Chapter 50

Iker cuddled against Cristiano, eyes closed, smiled on his face. "Is this what happy feels like?"

Cristiano threaded his fingers through Iker's hair. "I suppose."

Iker's eyes opened. "Aren't you happy?"

Cristiano looked down at him. "Haven't you thought about what this all means for you and me? Your brother being alive? With an heir?"

Iker sighed. "I'm trying not to. Xabi is the rightful heir, but that's not fair to us."

"It's not," Cristiano agreed. "Father is livid."

"Is he?" Iker asked, his eyes worried. "I hope it doesn't cause him and Father to fall out."

"It might," Cristiano said, not wanting to sugar coat things. "I know father does not begrudge him his son, but you and I have planned for this inheritance for nearly five years."

"What will we do?" Iker asked. "I have my share to inherit, but we won't have Bernabeu Hall."

"I know," Cristiano said. "I am still my father's heir, but Fabio is poised to take the seat in Parliment, and, quite frankly, he's twice the politician I was. I'm not sure I care for that any more, anyway."

Iker laid his head back down on Cristiano’s chest. "We could run away. Live in Spain or Greece in some old villa. Raise darkly tanned little children who don't know how to behave properly in a drawing room."

Crisitiano chuckled. "That would really set father off."

"Whatever we decide, shall we decide it together?"

"Always," Cristiano promised.

* * * *

By Boxing Day morning, Sami's fever was worse. Mesut was in a panic, and Cesc was at a loss.

"We just have to keep him cool," Cesc said as Mesut wiped Sami's forehead again.

Bojan hovered as well. Mesut had been at Sami's side all evening, but in the morning, Mesut had consented to send for Cesc again, no longer angry at Bo for having told him in the first place. "Maybe we should get Doctor Esteban?" He glanced nervously at Cesc, not wanting to suggest that the Lord's son wasn't capable.

"No, that's a good idea," Cesc said. "He's seen so much more than I. Bojan, you drive, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, go and fetch the doctor, but bring him around back. We should be able to keep this quiet, especially as everyone is distracted at the house."

Bojan ran out the door, and Cesc sat at Sami's bedside.

Mesut had tears in his eyes. "Should we have left him at the hospital?"

Cesc shook his head. "No- the fever would have set in here or there, and I don't honestly think there's much to be done, but I'll feel better if Doctor Esteban has a look at him."

The pain on Mesut's face, reminded Cesc that perhaps he should be a bit more hopeful when talking to the loved ones of patients. Wasn't Stu always telling him he needed more tact?

"If anything can be done, Dr. Esteban will know."

* * * *

Xavi stepped into the pub and immediately saw Pep sitting at a table, a drink before him. He rose when he saw Xavi, a smile on his face.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," he honestly said as Xavi joined him. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure," Xavi said as he rubbed his hands together. He'd walked from the house, and it was only a mile, but the day was frosty.

Pep went to the bar and returned with a whiskey, just what Xavi always liked.

"How was America?" Xavi asked politely. 

"Large," Pep said with a smile. "You would have loved the Grand Canyon."

Xavi offered him a small smile. "Is it as big as your books said?"

"Bigger," Pep said, his eyes alight. "You can't even imagine."

Xavi nodded. "What else did you see?"

Pep began to enthuse about his travels. Told Xavi about the mountains in Colorado and the beaches of California. It seemed he'd been everywhere.

"But you know what it was all missing?"

"What?"

"You."

Xavi looked down at his hands. "Please don't start..."

"No," Pep said. "No, I'll not. I just..." he reached for Xavi's hands. "It wasn't everything I wanted because you weren't there. I've missed you so much."

Xavi had been determined not to admit it, but the words tumbled out. "I missed you too."

“Have you?” Pep asked wistfully. “I’ve longed to hear that.”

Xavi looked up at him. “But I’m happy at Bernabeu.”

“I know,” Pep said as he pulled Xavi’s hand to his lips for a light kiss. “Which is why I’ve come back here. To stay.”

“To stay?” Xavi asked, not believing. “But you hated this town. Want to see the world.”

“I’ve seen it,” Pep shrugged. “And there is nothing in the world that is better than you.”

Xavi still looked a little uncertain. “So what are you going to do?”

“I’m back,” Pep said. “I’m staying in London right now, with a friend, you know, Oriol, right?”

“Sure,” Xavi said.

“And he thinks he can get me a job with him at the club he works at. One of those fancy ones that Bernabeu lot favors.”

Xavi nodded. “There is talk of the house moving to London. Lord Cesc is doing his medical practical, and I heard Lord Guti trying to talk Lord Raul into moving back. Perhaps I can be sure I am moved to London?”

Pep beamed. “That would be amazing.”

“But,” Xavi said. “Can we...take it slow?”

“Of course,” Pep agreed quickly. “So much time has passed.”

“It has,” Xavi said. “But I still love you.”

“I never stopped.”

* * * *

Cesc sat with Mesut as they waited for Dr Esteban. Mesut kept applying cool cloths, but Sami still suffered.

Watching him, feeling helpless, Cesc finally asked, “Why did you take him from the hospital?”

Mesut looked pained. “Lord Cesc, please don’t ask me that.”

“Bojan said he was wanted by the police,” Cesc pressed.

Mesut’s face crumpled. “He was a draft dodger.”

“Oh,” Cesc said, understanding. “He always was against the war, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Mesut said. “He got his letter last year. He didn’t go, and no one came looking for him. He thought it was over, but they’re after him.”

“Did they do this?” Cesc asked, angered.

“No, no, I think this was something else. He’s just so...passionate, you know?”

Cesc nodded. “It can get one into trouble, can’t it?”

“He’s a good man,” Mesut insisted. “He really is.”

“I know,” Cesc agreed. “You love him.”

“So much,” Mesut said. “He has to get better. He has to.”

The door opened and Dr Esteban arrived. He took one look at Sami and his features grew concerned. “How long has he been like this?”

“Since last night,” Mesut said, and told Dr. Esteban everything that had happened to Sami. The medical things, anyway.

Dr. Esteban nodded. He checked Sami’s pulse, felt his head, and listened to his chest. “I think he’s got a chest infection.”

“What?” Mesut asked.

“A cold,” Cesc said, wanting to kick himself for not listening to his lungs. 

“It’s bad, and I’m certain his state isn’t helping, but he should recover.”

“A cold?” Mesut asked.

“A cold,” Dr Esteban pronounced. “Get him to take fluid if you can, but I’d say this is likely to break by morning.’

“Oh thank you God,” Mesut said as he laid his head down on Sami’s chest. “Thank you god.”


	6. Chapters 51-60

Chapter 51

Xabi sat in the nursery watching his son chase around Cesc's little dog, Cloe. This was the kind of thing he had dreamed about for years, and had scare believed that it would ever come true.

"Where is Cesc?" Xabi asked Sergio.

"I don't know. He's been in and out all day. If his lover wasn't already in residence, I'd swear he was sneaking out," Sergio said as he watched Jon tumble over backwards, laughing as the dog licked his face.

"I can't believe what a fine young man he is," Xabi marveled. "And you."

Sergio smiled. "I've had a lot of growing up to do."

"So you have," Xabi agreed. "So. Fernando."

Sergio grinned. "Now, don't you start. I've spent the last two years convincing our father to accept him."

"Oh, you won't hear it from me," Xabi promised. "I've been in America, you know. They're very progressive about courting the help."

Sergio laughed. "I suppose you learn to get a different perspective on these things when you've looked death in the face, don't you?"

Xabi nodded and regarded his brother. "How is Iker?"

Sergio shrugged. "I'm not sure, honestly. He insists he loves Cristiano, and he was not just marrying him to keep the family together after we thought you'd died, but I just don't know."

"Iker's been so sheltered," Xabi agreed. "You, me, even Cesc has been out to the real world- Iker was at University, but that taught him nothing, really."

"I know. And I think he's convinced himself he can love Cristiano, but I think he just tells himself that because he feels obligated."

"He doesn't have to marry him," Xabi said. "We should tell father to have the engagement broken off. Iker may be unhappy at first, but in the long run, we know it would be better for him. Maybe he needs to travel. Get out of Bernabeu and see the world properly."

"I think so," Sergio agreed. 

"I will speak with Father," Xabi decided as Jon toddled up to him. 

"Dada!"

"Yes, little man?"

"Goggie!"

"Yes, that's Uncle Cesc's doggie."

"Jon goggie!" the little boy whined as he looked to Sergio for help.

"Jon, buddy, you'd have more luck taking Uncle Cesc's boyfriend than his puppy."

* * * *

"Lola, darling!" Guti gushed as Lola swanned into the drawing room. 

"Guti," Lola said as they kissed each other on the cheeks. "Hello Raul."

"Lola," Raul said, no trace of his reluctance to have her there on his face. "Was your journey a good one?"

"No, it's cold out there!" Lola complained.

A moment later, Lord Beckham appeared behind her. “She bitched the whole way.”

“David!” Lola admonished him for both his language and his cheek. “Raul, if you want to make him sleep in the garden, I will support that.”

“I think we can make room,” Raul allowed as he greeted David as well. “We have a bit of a full house, I’m afraid, but we did make room. Carles will have your things taken to your room if you’d like to warm yourselves at the fire.”

“Oh, you are such a dear, Raul,” Lola said as she let Carles take her coat. Raul was pleasantly surprised to see Lola dress appropriately. Most of what she owned showed off a lot of her...assets.

Guti, however, could not let the decency pass without a comment. “Lola! I’m disappointed!”

“Guti! Behave!” Lola laughed. “I’m a respectable woman now. I’ve been working at the veterans hospital in Liverpool.”

David smiled. “I saw it myself. Her bedside manner has always been impressive.”

Lola rolled her eyes and took Raul’s arm. “I’m going to pretend I don’t know either of them. They tell me you’ve had some wonderful news.”

Lola and Raul went to sit by the fire, and Guti offered David a drink.

“Long time, my friend,” Guti said as he poured a whiskey for David.

“It has been,” David agreed. “But I’m back to London to stay, so hopefully I will see you around more.”

“I am thinking of returning to London myself,” Guti said. “Raul is rather attached to country life, but Cesc will be moving to London soon, and I think I might tempt him to move the household for awhile.”

“Like old times,” David smiled.

* * * *

Cesc found his brothers in the nursery when he returned from tending Sami. A cold, of all the ridiculous things. Esteban assured him it was at worst, a touch of the flu, but considering the state of Sami, it was to be expected his body was struggling with it. He’d left Mesut spooning soup into Sami’s mouth, and he and Bo had promised to cover for him and come back and check after tea.

“Where have you been?” Sergio demanded as he fed Jon bits of cake from his plate.

“Mesut has taken ill,” Cesc said. “I was just checking on him.”

“Oh, I hope it’s not serious,” Iker frowned.

“A bad cold. I’ve tucked him in bed with some soup and ordered him to stay in bed until at least the day after tomorrow so he doesn’t pass it on.”

“Good idea,” Xabi approved. “I hear tell there’s influenza spreading.”

“Goggie,” Jon said as he toddled up to Cesc, Cloe on his heels.

“Well, I see you’ve made friends,” Cesc beamed as he scooped up his beloved pet. “Are you being a good girl, Cloe?”

“BARK!”

“Goggie!” Jon laughed happily.

Cesc scratched Cloe’s ears. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh,” Iker said, “Around. Father and Guti are downstairs entertaining Guti’s friends, Lord Beckham and Lola.”

“Lola!” Sergio laughed. “At Bernabeu?”

“I don’t think father is best pleased to have her, but she’s a dear old friend of Guti’s.”

“And Lord Beckham!” Cesc said, giving Sergio a look.

“Oh, Cesc, that was ages ago.”

“What was?” Xabi demanded, feeling left out.

“Sergio and Lord Beckham!” Cesc delightedly reported as he accepted a plate from Iker.

Xabi laughed. “Sergio!”

“What!” Sergio laughed. “He was a good lover.”

“Well, don’t tell Fernando about him,” Cesc advised.

Sergio paused for a moment, and realized that Fernando had known about David, though he’d never said as much. He and David had been long over before Fernando and he had become a couple.

But then again, he hadn’t seen David since before Fernando.

* * * *

Mesut mopped Sami’s brow. “I need you to get better.”

Sami was unresponsive, in a fitful sleep, but at least Mesut had managed to get half a bowl of broth into him earlier.

Mesut’s back ached from leaning over Sami, and he was so tired. He finally gave into his exhaustion and climbed into the bed with Sami.

“Move over a bit, love, I’ve been eating too much of Andy’s stew.” Mesut wriggled in next to Sami and laid his head on the pillow with him. He tried not to lean in too close, as Sami was still hot with fever, but he stroked Sami’s hair.

“I hate that you’re sick,” Mesut said, his eyes closed. “But I’m so glad you’re here with me again. I missed you so much.”

Mesut threaded his fingers into Sami’s.

“I promise you, this time, when I get upset with you, I’m going to say something, and not just walk away. I never said anything when I was miserable, and you didn’t know.” Mesut said. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I should have said I was unhappy.”

Mesut sighed and leaned on Sami’s shoulder, “But I need you, okay? So as soon as you’re better, we’ll figure all this out, together.”

 

Chapter 52

Sami awoke to find something very hot pressed against his side. His eyes fluttered opened and he realized, with a shock, that he was back in the carriage house at Bernabeu hall. For a moment, he had no idea how he'd come to be there, but when he looked down and saw Mesut, face flushed, it came back to him.

"You came for me," Sami said as he closed his eyes again.

Tired. He was so tired.

But before he could drift off, it registered that Mesut was unnaturally warm beside him. He opened his eyes again and took in Mesut's red face and damp hair. 

"Mesut," he said, shaking him gently, but Mesut just groaned. "Meust, baby, wake up."

Nothing Sami, in his exhaustion, did woke Mesut. 

Closing his eyes, Sami held him, praying that someone else knew they were up here, and would come to help.

* * * *

Lola lounged on a chaise in Guti and Raul's room. Raul was up and about somewhere, but Guti was still lying in bed.

"Guti, we must get the club open again," Lola said. "I am so bored being good. I don't want to be good any more."

Guti chuckled as he rolled to his side to look at Lola. The sheet fell away, revealing an expanse of pale chest. She was beginning to show her nearly forty years, not that she admitted a day over thirty, but she was aging well, the way only truly beautiful women did. "You've never been good a day in your life."

"I most certainly have!" Lola protested. "I've been nursing poor wounded soldiers and my aunt has made me confess all of my sins."

"That must have taken awhile," Guti teased.

"No more than a fortnight," Lola grinned. "And the poor priest can't look me in the eye any more. But at least my soul is saved."

"You know, if you go on sinning, you can still go to hell."

"Really?" Lola frowned. "Well, that's inconvenient. Can't they just wave a scepter and absolve you of everything?"

"Please forgive me father, for I am about to sin?"

"Exactly," Lola laughed. 

"So where did you pick up Lord Beckham?" Guti asked, his tone more casual than the question.

"He was in Liverpool, seeing about business. He came and rescued me from my goodness and then when you invited me to stay, he decided to come along." Lola easily skated over the jealousy in Guti's question. Here he was, playing lord of the manor for the last four years, did he think Lola had become a nun? "You will never guess who his latest play thing is?"

"Fabio," Guti said.

"Oh, you're no fun!" Lola said with a pout. "How do you know?"

"I know everything, my dear," Guti said.

"Well, does your dear step-son know about this? He must be jealous," Lola's eyes lit up with the idea of a scandal.

"He will soon enough," Guti predicted. "There are no secrets under this roof."

* * * *

Bojan went to check on Sami and Mesut before breakfast, and found both of them in the bed.

"Oh Mesut," Bojan rolled his eyes as he set the tray down and moved to rouse him.

But when he laid a hand on Mesut's shoulder, he quickly felt the heat. Mesut was burning up.

"Mes!" Bojan said as she shook him. "Mes! Wake up!"

But it was Sami's eyes that opened. "Bojan?"

"Sami!" Bojan said. "You're awake!"

"Mesut is sick," Sami pointed out as his eyes closed again. "Help him."

"He must have what you had," Bojan fretted. "I'll go get Cesc."

Bojan scampered away, abandoning the breakfast tray.

If Mesut had the illness, who else might have been infected?

* * * *

At breakfast, Fabio was smiling a rather lot, Sergio thought uncharitably as he stirred his porridge. He looked for sugar, but there was none to be had. The shortages of the war seemed to be holding on longer than the war. He took a spoonful and was about to raise it to his lips when Lord Beckham entered the room.

And gave Fabio a smile that Sergio knew quite well. 

His spoon clattered to the table, and porridge splattered.

"Shit," he muttered, looking down and avoiding everyone's stares. What the hell? When did David and Fabio become lovers?

"Miss your mouth?" Cesc asked cheerfully.

"Shut up," Sergio muttered as he began to shovel the porridge into his mouth.

Raul was sat at the head of the table, reading his paper and sipping his tea. He glanced at Sergio, and then back at his paper. Sergio being Sergio, no doubt.

Luis walked in and took a seat next to Raul. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Raul said as he put aside the paper. He did enjoy guests, but they did so want all of your attention.

"So," Luis said with no preamble, "When are we going to have a discussion about the inheritance?"

The room went silent. At one end of the table, Sergio and Cesc, eyes as wide as saucers, looked down at their father. Stood at the buffet, David and Fabio turned, eyes equally wide with horror.

This was not a conversation for the breakfast table.

Raul set down his tea cup and looked levelly at his brother. "I don't think there's anything to discuss. But if you'd like, we can take this up after breakfast."

"Nothing to discuss?"

"Luis!" Raul said angrily. "This is not for the breakfast table! I will speak to you later or not at all."

Luis held his tongue, but there was anger in his eyes. Wordlessly he rose and departed.

Raul opened his paper again, and would not meet anyone's eyes.

Sergio swallowed the mouthful he had and looked to Cesc. 

"Fabio? Would you like to go riding today?" Cesc asked with a painfully fake cheerfulness.

"Sure," Fabio agreed distractedly.

"Carles!" Cesc chirped. "Could we have the horses saddled?"

"I'll have Gerard get to it."

Cesc was flushed with embarrassment. In front of the staff no less!

Suddenly, Bojan crashed into the dining room. "Lord Cesc! You must come! Mesut..." he faltered, remembering their cover story. "Mesut is worse."

Cesc stood, grateful for the distraction. "Has his fever not broken?"

Bojan looked pained, unable to voice the truth. "Please come."

Cesc followed Bojan, stopping in the kitchen for his medical bag where he'd stashed it for easy access. Once they were outdoors, Bojan's words fell out in a tumble.

"Cesc, it's Mesut. Sami is awake, but Mesut is burning with the fever, now. Do you think the fever is catching? What if we've given it to the whole staff? The family?"

Cesc's heart sank. He should have seen this. He should have known this could spread. Had he not heard of entire wards of patients caught the same illness? They weren't entirely sure how it was spread, but Cesc and Bojan had both been all about the house and taken no real precautions.

As soon as he saw Mesut, he knew it was the same. The high color, the fevered sweats. Mesut lay half sprawled on Sami, who was asleep, though markedly more restful than before.

"We need to get him in the other bed," Cesc said. Bojan helped him carry Mesut to the spare bed in the room where they lay him. 

The warmth of Mesut gone, Sami opened his eyes. "Mesut...?"

"Shh," Bojan said as he sat at his side. "We needed to move him so he could be cooler. He's got a fever."

Sami closed his eyes. "Will he be okay?"

"We'll do everything we can," Cesc assured him. "Bojan, see if you can get Sami to drink some of that broth, he's dehydrated. I'll get some cool cloths to wipe Mesut's forehead. And before you go back into the house again, wash your hands thoroughly, alright?"

Bojan nodded, not understanding what the cleanliness of his hands had to do with anything, but trusting Cesc knew best.

"You want to sit up a little?" he asked Sami as he came to his bed with the soup.

Sami struggled to sit up enough to eat and dutifully took the spoonfuls Bojan offered, but his eyes never left Mesut.

"Was I sick like that?"

Bojan nodded, trying not to let his fear show. "But you're better, and we know Mesut's tough."

Sami nodded. "Too tough. Someone should look after him."

"Well, you'll be strong soon enough," Bojan assured him. "Now eat your soup."

* * * * 

Raul walked into his study, and found Luis pacing. 

Luis stopped the moment he saw him. "How can you say there's nothing to discuss?"

Raul gazed at his brother. "The inheritance goes to my son who has a legitimate heir."

"And Cristiano can just fuck off?" Luis demanded. He'd been stewing over this for two days and his anger spat out of him.

"Cristiano always was aware of the terms of the inheritance," Raul said. He'd convinced himself everything was fair. How could it not be? Cristiano hadn't even wanted to inherit in the first place.

"We thought Xabi was dead. Cristiano is marrying your son to help your family, and this is how you repay him? After Cristiano gave up a life in the government and focused his attentions on you and this estate and all you can say is thanks, we don't need you any more?"

"Quite frankly," Raul said, refusing to be baited, "I thought Cristiano would be relieved. We all know he and Iker were only to marry out of obligation. Both of them are free to live their own lives now."

"And they shall," Luis assured him. "My sons and I want nothing more to do with you."

"Luis," Raul said, "be reasonable."

"Oh, we're past reasonable. When you saw my son as nothing more than an inconvenience to you, but a useful one you might control, we put up with you. Cristiano could have fucked off and married anyone, but he was doing this for you, you ungrateful bastard."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Raul said.

Luis stormed out of the room. He ran into Fabio in the corridor. "Pack your things. We are leaving."

Fabio looked pained. "But Father...."

"I said now!"

Fabio looked at David sadly. So much for a week's pleasure.

"Yes father."

Luis stormed up the stairs and to Crisitano's room. "We are leaving."

Cristiano, thankful Iker had already departed, looked up at him from his dressing table. "We are?"

"Your uncle seems to not have much use for us any longer. Your engagement is off. We are leaving."

"What?" Cristiano cried. "No! No! I want to marry Iker!"

Luis gave him a look. "I know you have affection for him, but that will pass. You are going to be a member of the house of Lords, and we will not be furthering our attachment to this family!"

He stormed up as tears filled Cristiano's eyes. "No...."

* * * *

Iker heard the commotion and stuck his head out. "What in heaven's name is going on?"

Fabio, who'd been dragging his heels going upstairs, looked at him. "Your father and mine seem to have had a disagreement."

Iker paled. "Over the inheritance?"

Fabio nodded. 

Iker ran to Cristiano's room.

"No," Iker said as he saw Cristiano shoving things into his trunk, not even waiting for the valet to pack.

Cristiano turned to him, tears streaming. "My father says the engagement is off."

"No," Iker moaned. "No...no....I can't lose you."

Cristiano came to him, wrapping his arms around him. "I know. I love you."

"Don't leave," Iker begged. "Stay. There must be a solution."

Cristiano clung to him. "I don't know what it is."

"No, don't give up. Please my love."

"I won't," Cristiano assured him. "I can't let go of you. I don't know what can be done, but please believe that I will find a way for us to be together."

Iker squeezed tight, reluctant to let go even as Cristiano began to pull away. "Promise me."

"I promise."

Chapter 53

Cesc came back in the house and made his way to the phone. He needed to call Dr. Esteban for advice. He'd been hearing about this flu that had been going around, but never thought it would be here at Bernabeu.

On his way, he found Fernando sitting on the steps, head on his knees.

"Nando!" Cesc said as he knelt before him. One touch of Fernando's cheek, and he knew Fernando was ill.

"Oh," Fernando lifted his head, his normally pale, freckled cheeks, flushed. "Hi Cesc."

"We need to get you into bed," Cesc said as he reached to help Fernando up.

"Oh, I'm fine," Fernando said, his voice weak. "I just needed to rest."

Cesc couldn't get the larger man to his feet. "Just...wait here a minute," Cesc said as he ran the rest of the way up the stairs and burst into the back corridor. Jogging to the library, he found Sergio and Guti.

"Please help," Cesc said. "Fernando is ill."

The quip about Cesc being the doctor died on Guti's lips as he saw the naked concern on Cesc's face. 

Sergio ran to help. "Where is he?"

Cesc led them to Fernando who was now slumped against the wall.

"Oh my love," Sergio said as he put an arm around him. He and Cesc managed to guide Fernando who was nearly limp, up the stairs.

"What's wrong with him? Guti asked as he trailed behind, uselessly.

"I'm not sure," Cesc said, not wanting to raise the alarm. "I need to call Dr Esteban."

Fernando was settled in his bed, watched over by a hovering Sergio. Guti went to tell Raul, who had locked himself in his room since that morning when Luis and his sons had left. 

Cesc ran Dr. Esteban.

"Two more cases?" Dr. Esteban asked, concerned. "I'll be right out."

* * * *

By the time Dr Esteban arrived, everyone in the house had gathered, concerned about both Mesut and Fernando. Iker sat in the corner of the library, eyes red, and didn’t speak with anyone.

Dr. Esteban check on both Sami, Mesut, and Fernando before joining the family in the library.

“We need to put this house under quarantine. We can’t have anyone coming our going.”

“We’ve just had some guests depart,” Guti said quietly.

“They will need to be informed,” Esteban said. “This has all the symptoms of the Spanish Flu that I’ve been hearing about.”

“Where did it come from?” Guti asked, the only one in the room not too wrapped in his own misery to speak.

“Mesut must have picked it up in Manchester,” Cesc said. Dr. Esteban had agreed to protect Sami’s secret for now.

“What can we do?” Raul asked quietly.

“There isn’t much to be done. We need to keep them quiet and get them to drink if we can. Tell everyone on staff and keep an eye on each other to see who else falls ill.”

“More?” Lola asked, alarmed.

“It’s likely these aren’t the last cases we see,” Dr Esteban said. 

“Are the likely to die?” Sergio asked, his face pale with worry.

Dr Esteban’s look was grim. “It’s a possibility.”

“Is it....is it okay if I sit with him?” Sergio asked. 

“Yes,” Dr. Esteban said. He was already exposed. “Is your grandson still her?”

“Yes,” Raul said. 

“Has he been exposed to any of the ill, yet?”

Xabi shook his head. “Mesut has been ill and not met him, and Fernando has been busy and only was in to see him yesterday.”

“Good,” Dr. Esteban said. “I would recommend him not seeing anyone but his nanny until this has passed. Children are often quite vulnerable.”

Raul closed his eyes and prayed.

Xabi left to inform the nanny, and Raul came to his feet. “Thank you for coming, doctor.”

“Call me if anything changes,” Dr Esteban said.

The doctor left and Raul sank down. It was hard enough that two off the staff had taken ill. Would one of his sons be next?

* * * *

The next two days were quiet and tense. Fernando and Mesut both worsened, though Sami improved. On the second day, Iker fell ill.

Raul came to his bedside and took his hand. “You’ve had a hard Christmas.”

Iker looked at him, his face pale and sweaty. “I need you to write to Cris for me.”

“Iker...”

“I love him,” Iker pleaded in a quiet, raspy voice. “Please father...”

Raul nodded. “You need to tell him goodbye.”

Iker closed his eyes. “Father. I want to marry him.”

“He doesn’t want you.”

“Yes. He. Does.”

Raul sighed. “Luis has made his feelings clear.”

“I don’t care what you or Luis want!” Iker said and then had to gasp for breath. “Neither does Cris.”

“Let’s not talk about this,” Raul said quietly.

“No!” Iker said. “You will write for me.”

“Alright,” Raul agreed as he got up. He went to Iker’s desk and got a pen and paper. 

It took nearly an hour as Iker struggled, but he managed to tell Raul everything he felt to put on the paper. How he loved and needed Cristiano. How he wanted to be married as soon as possible, and that they could live wherever Cristiano desired.

When he finished, Iker fell into a fitful sleep. Raul stood and took the letter to his room and put it in his desk.

Cristiano would not respond to that letter the way Iker desired, so for now, it would not be sent.

* * * *

Mesut awoke. His mouth was dry.

“Mes?” 

He turned his head. “Sami?”

Sami smile. “Alright?”

“Water?”

Sami pushed up from his bed and reached for the water. He shifted himself to the edge of the bed, and managed to pull himself up and over to Mesut’s bed. Lying with Mesut, he lifted the water to his lips.

Mesut took a thirsty gulp.

“Slowly,” Sami urged.

Mesut took another swallow and laid back, the effort having worn him out. “What happened?”

“You caught my flu,” Sami said as he burrowed under Mesut’s covers.

“Oh,” Mesut said. “Are you better?”

“Even better not that you’re awake.”

Mesut smiled faintly. “Are we going to be okay?”

“Always.”

* * * *

A letter arrived from Cristiano to Iker. Raul threw it in the fire.

“What should we do?” Xabi asked, his concern for his brother clear.

Raul shook his head. “When he recovers, we should send him away. Your mother has a cousin in Barcelona. We will send him there, telling him he needs to recover. We will tell people Iker has died of the flu.”

Xabi nodded in agreement. “It is the kindest way.”

“Iker will meet people in Barcelona. He will fall in love and forget about Cristiano.”

 

Chapter 54

When the news reached Cristiano, he went to his room and refused to come out for three days. Nothing his father or his brother could say would coax him out.

He shouldn’t have left. He should have stood up to his father then and there. He should have refused to leave Iker, demand they leave at once, together. Run away and...

Cristiano lay in his bed, tears long since dried.

He could have at least been there to hold his hand as he died.

A soft knocking on the door.

Cristiano lifted his head.

“Cris, please.”

It was Fabio.

Cristiano rose, his clothes rumpled, his face gaunt and unlocked the door.

Fabio took one look at him and moved to embrace him.

“Oh Cris,” Fabio said.

Cristiano’s tears came again, and he sobbed on his brother’s shoulder. When he finally cried himself out, he sighed.

“What are you going to do now?” Fabio asked.

“Leave England,” Cristiano said. “There’s nothing for me now.”

“No,” Fabio said. “Come to London. You and I can work together. There is still much for you here.”

Cristiano shook his head. “No. Without Iker, there is nothing. Nothing at all.”

* * * *

Cesc breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down to a glass of whiskey. Bernabeu Hall appeared to have been spared the worst of the flu. All in all, six members of the household had fallen ill, but not one fatality. Sami was back on his feet, Mesut wasn’t far, and Iker, Fernando, Guti, and Xavi were all past the worst of it. Dr. Esteban credited his quick work in recognizing the illness and setting in place quarantine efforts.

Danny walked in, looking grim.

Cesc reached for him. “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. You’ve come all this way to be with me and I’ve had to play doctor.”

Danny came to Cesc’s side and sat. “I have to leave.”

Cesc’s face fell. “So soon? It’s just New Year.”

“I’ve had a letter from my father. He wants me home immediately. He somehow found out I wasn’t in London as I said I would be, and he is angry.”

Cesc reached for Danny, but Danny pulled away. “Cesc...”

“Danny,” Cesc begged. “We...”

“No,” Danny said as he backed away. “This was a fantasy at best. I knew we couldn’t be together. I should have stayed away.”

“We can work something out,” Cesc pressed. “Please.”

Danny shook his head. “Cesc...you just don’t know. You don’t know what my life is like. You have so many freedoms here. I don’t have control of my own life.”

“I know but....”

“I have to go,” Danny repeated and disappeared.

Cesc downed his whiskey. So much for a moment of peace.

* * * *

Lola sat by Guti’s bed. Raul was away, arranging for Iker’s departure. 

“I don’t understand why he’s doing this,” Guti said. “How can he deny his son the man he loves?”

Lola sighed. Guti had been bitching ever since he’d heard that Raul was sending Iker away. “Have you told him this?”

“He won’t listen,” Guti said and then fell into a fit of coughing. Lola handed him a cup of water which he sipped. 

“We need to go back to London,” Lola changed the subject. “You and me. Back and get the club running.”

Guti regarded her. “We should.”

“This family,” Lola began, and them paused. “They...”

“They don’t need me,” Guti agreed.

“I need you. You know the club needs you.”

“I miss the club,” Guti sighed. “The club was so easy. Just pleasure.”

“Lord Beckham is anxious to start up again,” Lola agreed.

“Lord Beckham is just sad that Lord Luis’s little strop denied him his plaything.”

“Yes, and with Sergio avoiding him like he’s got plague.”

Guti’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Oh yes. David was trying to seduce his old favorite, and Sergio ran.”

“Our Sergio is engaged.”

“To the maid,” Lola made a face.

“Darling, you run a sex club. Your higher ground is well below respectable.”

Lola laughed. “Fine. At least it’s a well fit maid.”

“Exactly,” Guti said, as he did adore Fernando. “Yes. As soon as I am well, we’ll go back to London.”

* * * *

“London?” Andy asked as Carles came to relay the news to the staff.

“To London,” Carles agreed. “Lord Raul says it will be at least a week, until everyone is well, but then we are going to spend the winter in London. Lord Cesc is to begin his internship, and Lord Raul thinks we all need a change of scenery.”

“London,” Xavi’s smile was wide.

“I thought you hated London,” Bo asked.

“Well...”

“I know why he’s anxious to go to London,” Gerard smiled, though he himself was wondering what this meant for him and Victor.

“Why?” Bo asked as he watched Xavi blush. “Who!!!”

“Pep,” Andy supplied.

“Who’s Pep?” Bojan whined.

Xavi was bright pink. “No one!”

“Leave him be,” Carles barked, but he gave Xavi a wink.

“I want to go to London!” Bojan complained.

“So come,” Carles said simply. “You’ll be discharged from the army next month, Lord Raul has already said you can have a place.”

Bojan sighed. He’d thought he wanted more, but having been back in Bernabeu for the last two weeks had been so conformable. Having the people he loved, being needed.

“Okay,” Bojan said. “I’ll come.”

* * * *

“He didn’t reply to my letter?” Iker asked, pain in his eyes.

Raul looked away. “He did not.”

Iker closed his eyes.

“Which is why, I believe, we need to send you to the continent. You can stay with Cousin David Villa. I will spread the rumor that you died...”

“What?”

“I think it’s best,” Raul said quietly. “People will leave you alone. We’ll make no official announcement, so you can always return. Iker...you need to get out. Get away. See something of this world other than Bernabeu. Find out who you are.”

Iker nodded. “I should.”

“Good,” Raul said. “I know you hurt now, Iker. But some times the lowest moments in our lives allow for us grow into the people we are meant to be.”

 

Chapter 55

Fabio was smiling as he walked out of his lunch meeting with the Prime Minister. Having returned to London at exactly the right moment, he'd found himself in a perfect position to hold the attention of many of the most important politicians in the country. Too many of his peers were war weary, and Fabio was fresh out of school, optimistic, with forward-thinking ideas. He also had a wealth of connections in America due to his degree, and in the post-war world, the Americans were being heavily courted as the League of Nations developed. There was talk of making him assistant to the ambassador to America, or indeed, a delegate to the League itself.

Doors were opening to Fabio that even his old mentor, Jose could not get through.

Hence the smile.

Which promptly ran off his face as he spotted Raul Meireles coming down Bond Street toward him.

"Fabio," Raul said brightly before Fabio could duck into a waiting cab. "How are you? I heard you were back in London and I'd meant to call on you."

Fabio, for once in his life, was at a loss for words. The last time he'd spoken to Raul was before the war. When Raul had become engaged without so much of a word of warning to his lover.

"You look well," Raul pushed on, not even slightly put off by Fabio's silence.

"Thank you," Fabio finally managed to sputter. "How are you?"

"We're doing alright," Raul said with a hint of sadness. "We must meet up for drinks some time soon. Will you be at the club?"

"Tomorrow," Fabio said without thinking.

"Then we will make a date of it," Raul smiled.

As Fabio watched, dumbfounded, Raul crossed the street and hailed a cab.

For some reason, Fabio felt as though he'd been ambushed.

* * * *

Cesc, feet aching after a twenty-four hour shift on the ward, climbed the stairs to their London house. He just wanted to fall into his bed and not move.

"Lord Cesc!" Carles greeted him as he appeared, looking concerned. "You..." Carles began and gestured at his shirt.

Cesc looked down and realized that there was blood on him. "Oh," Cesc said with a yawn. "It bled through my scrubs. Please apologize to Mesut for me."

"Of course sir. Dinner is at eight," Carles gently reminded.

"I think I'm going to skip dinner tonight," Cesc said. "Can you have Mesut bring me a hot bath?"

"But Lord Cesc," Carles said, "Your father is having guests to dinner tonight. You are expected."

Cesc nearly started to whine that he was tired, but caught himself. "Of course. Can you still have that bath sent up?"

"Yes, sir."

Cesc wearily climbed the stairs. Dinner? Tonight? Was his father mental? Cesc had been working nearly 72 hours this week, part of his training, and he was dead on his feet. He was due back at the hospital in the morning, and he just needed sleep.

Working long hours was good for Cesc. It kept him from thinking about Danny. Danny who he'd written to every day since his departure, but had yet to hear a word in return.

Don't think about it, Cesc ordered himself as he shut the door to his room and began to undress. Just don't think about him.

* * * *

"So when is the grand reopening?" Lord Beckham asked with a grin as Lola and Guti explained their plans over pre-dinner drinks.

"Next week," Guti said. It was just the three of them in the library. Raul had not emerged yet, and Sergio would be joining them shortly.

"Will you be bringing Fabio?"

David grinned at Lola. "I'm not sure if he's ready."

"Are you sure he wants to risk his political career?" Guti asked.

"By being seen with us?" Lola asked. "Are you saying we're disreputable?"

"You are," Guti teased.

The door opened and Sergio walked in. He greeted them all and sat nearest Guti.

"So, Sergio," David asked, not letting the young man ignore him. "I hear you're off to university soon."

"In September," Sergio confirmed. "Fernando and I are both going. Fernando is working to finish some courses before we are married, and then we will move to Oxford together."

"I do love an academic man," Lola said with a flirty smile.

Sergio, still intimidated by the brash, older woman, couldn't look her in the eye. Where was his father, anyway.

"So, Sergio," David said, "I don't suppose we can talk you into coming to the club when it reopens?"

"David," Guti warned, knowing that Raul would not be pleased with the idea of any of his sons at the club. As far as he knew, Raul still had no idea Sergio had been there at all. And he intended to keep it that way.

"Jose Maria," David countered. "He's a man now. He's got war wounds and everything."

"I'm engaged," Sergio said stupidly.

"So bring the lovely Fernando," David said. "Add a little spice to your love life."

"Our love life needs no spice!" Sergio said, his cheeks gone pink. Not so long ago, he would have been thrilled at the prospect, but now a night at home with Fernando was preferable to too much adventure.

"Where is that gorgeous boy," Lola said.

"He's studying," Sergio said. "I finally convinced him he no longer needed to be the maid, but now he's forever studying to pass his entrance exams."

"I'm beginning to suspect he doesn't like us," Guti said.

Raul made an entrance just then, cutting short the conversation. Sergio was quite pleased to see his father.

"Is Fernando going to join us?" Raul asked. "I've tried to make him welcome."

"I know you have," Sergio sighed. "He's just not comfortable in formal gatherings."

"We're hardly polite company," Guti said. "I mean, Raul lets Lola in."

"You," Lola glared, "are so much trouble."

Guti winked at her. "Go get Fernando."

Sergio got up. "Alright."

When Sergio got upstairs he found Cesc asleep on his bed.

"Cesc?"

Cesc lifted a groggy head. "Oh- hey Sergio." He yawned.

"Why are you asleep in my room?"

"Oh," Cesc said. "I came in here to borrow a shirt and Fernando said he'd press it for me and...I guess I fell asleep."

Fernando returned just then with the freshly pressed garment. "Everything alright?" he asked as he kissed Sergio on the cheek.

"Your presence is requested downstairs."

Fernando made a face. "I need to study."

"You have months to study," Sergio said. "And you have to protect me. Lord Beckham keeps leering at me."

Fernando's jealously flared. "He better keep his distance."

Cesc's eyes darted between the two, suddenly wide awake. 

"I'm trying, but you know how he is," Sergio said as he cuddled close to Fernando. "I need you there to glare at him and remind him that I'm taken."

Fernando sighed. "I hate these things." Fernando had consented to a few family dinners, but he hated the formality of it all. He had better things to do with his time than sit at dinner.

"For me?" Sergio asked as he nuzzled Fernando's neck.

"Hi, I'm in the room," Cesc said as Sergio's hands started to wander.

"Take your shirt and go!" Sergio laughed as Cesc grabbed the shirt and ran.

Fernando sighed. "You'd never cheat on me, would you?"

"Never," Sergio vowed. "But I still need you."

* * * *

Fabio had arrived to the dinner party and Xabi appeared downstairs after putting Jon to bed. Luis was still not speaking to his brother, and Fabio refused to discuss either his father or his brother, who was rumored to be in Italy, but would accept dinner invitations.

"Fernando," Xabi greeted his soon to be brother-in-law. "I'm so pleased you're joining us."

Sergio held his arm. "I made him."

"These things can be dire," Fabio sympathized. "I promise not to discuss politics."

"Politics I can handle," Fernando said. "Just please don't let Sergio start talking about fashion."

Sergio pouted. "He won't go shopping with me, won't talk about fashions."

"I let you dress me," Fernando said dryly. "Maybe you should count yourself lucky."

Carles called them in to dinner, and they all walked in. Bojan's eyebrows disappeared into his hair when he saw Fernando sitting down. Bojan had been promoted to second footman in his return, and he and Gerard stood waiting to serve the first course.

Fernando rolled his eyes at Bojan who suppressed a grin as he pulled out a chair for Lola.

Dinner was a bit of an interesting affair. Everyone at the table had things they were Not Talking About. The family were Not Talking About Iker, who was settled in at Cousin Villa's house in Barcelona. Fabio was Not Talking About his father or Cris. Lola and Guti were Not Talking About the club.

Cesc, the usual chatterbox, looked like he was just trying not to fall asleep.

"So," Fabio said as he turned to Xabi. "Have you become reacquainted with any old friends since your return to London?"

Xabi shook his head. "Not particularly. Sadly, many of the lads I was at school with were killed in the war."

"I saw your friend Steven just the other day," Fabio said rather innocently, but every head at the table snapped to see Xabi's reaction to this.

"Oh?" Xabi asked and took a sip of his wine. He met Fabio's eye. "I'd not heard he was in London."

"Oh yes," Fabio said. "He's working in his father's law firm, Anfield. Married to Lady Alexandra, you know her, her father owns the textile factories in Liverpool? I hear they have two darling little daughters."

Sergio wanted to smack his cousin across the face, but Xabi seemed to take the news in stride. "How nice."

"Xabi," Sergio said and quickly changed the subject.

Xabi participated in the conversation, not an emotion crossing his face. But if they all thought he hadn't keep track of exactly what Steven had been doing all these years, they were very much mistaken.

 

Chapter 56

Fabio's heart was racing as he watching Raul make his way to the table where he was playing cards. He didn't come to this club as often as he used to; he was now invited to the political clubs where business was done over tumblers of the finest whiskey, but tonight he found him back in his familiar place, drinking a lower quality brand, sitting with lower quality people. Feeling at home.

"Evening," Raul said as he smiled at the familiar faces. "Mind if I sit in?"

"Pull up a chair, Meireles," laughed a red-faced man whose name entirely escaped Fabio this moment.

Raul sat next to Fabio, as though he did this every evening. Fabio's senses were on fire. The allure of his old lover overcoming his senses.

The game progressed, and rather uncharacteristically, Fabio found himself losing. After about an hour, he got up to excuse himself.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Raul asked.

"Sure," Fabio said. What do you want? His mind screamed. Why are you back, messing with me again? I was over you. I'm somebody now. I have a lover who treats me like an equal, not a shameful secret.

The words remained unspoken as he followed Raul to the back of the club. He procured two whiskeys and they found a dark corner.

"How have you been?" Raul asked as he watched Fabio drink, taking half the tumbler in one go.

"Fine," Fabio said. "You?"

"Not so good," Raul admitted. "The flu outbreak took my wife."

Fabio's eyes locked on Raul's. "I'm sorry to hear that. You have my condolences."

"Thank you," Raul said. "She was a fine woman. The twins miss her terribly."

"Twins?"

"Yes," Raul said as his gaze broke away. "Sons. They're just three and were never far from her skirts. I suppose we were lucky neither of them took ill."

Realization sunk into Fabio. Raul's wife was dead. He had two healthy male heirs.

"I hear you're with Lord Beckham," Raul asked as propriety diminished.

"Yes," Fabio said, though he realized that David had barely crossed his mind all day despite having woken up in his bed this morning. He enjoyed being with David. The sex was incredible. But he wasn't Raul.

"Is it serious?"

"No," Fabio said and drained his glass. "No it isn't."

Raul gazed at him. "Do you have any idea how much I've missed you?"

Fabio rose. "Raul..."

"Please stay," Raul begged.

"I can't." Fabio pulled away from him. "Raul...you broke my heart."

"I know," Raul said. "You don't think my heart wasn't broken, too?"

"Stop," Fabio said. "I'm an important man now. I can't just go with my heart."

"You do still love me," Raul insisted. "Please, Fabio."

"I need...I need to go," Fabio said as he crossed the room.

Raul didn't try to stop him.

* * * *

Xavi yawned as he put up the last of the clean linens. It was late, but he'd only just caught up on his work. He'd been out with Pep three times this week, and had over-slept this morning. Carles had yelled at him as he'd rushed to get the breakfast room ready. It was the first time in years Xavi had caused Carles's ire.

As he closed the door to the linen closet, he heard the tapping on the back door.

Pep.

Xavi smiled, but as he made his way to the door, he reminded himself- not tonight.

"Pep!" Xavi said as he opened the door.

"I miss you," Pep said as he leaned in for a kiss.

Xavi gave in to it, but only for a moment. "I told you I can't tonight. I'm exhausted and behind on my work!"

Pep pouted. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, but if I screw up again this week Carles is going to deny me my Sunday afternoon off."

"Screw up?" Pep frowned.

"I over slept and breakfast was nearly late."

"What did Carles say?"

"He yelled at me."

"He has no right!" Pep was angry.

"Yes, he does," Xavi said. "And lower your voice before he hears you."

"This is bullshit. You're not a slave!"

"No, but I'm a servant," Xavi said, not wanting to have this argument again. "Now go."

"You shouldn't let them push you around," Pep insisted.

"Pep. Please?" Xavi said. "You promised you weren't going to give me a hard time about my work."

"It's slavery," Pep grumbled.

"It's my work. Now go." Xavi pressed his lips to Pep's. "Sunday."

Pep sighed. "Sunday at two. I'll be waiting."

* * * *

Fabio found himself drinking in a shady bar in the West end. He didn't want to be seen by anyone he knew. He wanted a drink and he wanted to be left alone.

What did Raul want from him? Before Raul had everything to lose by being with Raul, and now the opposite was true. Fabio had gone and made something of his life. And while Raul was hardly disreputable, he would be expected to take a wife eventually. With the rise of the women's right's movement, it would be good to be seen to take a wife. Women had been given the right to vote, and if some day Fabio were to take an elected office, maybe even that of Prime Minister, he would need a wife to woo the women voters. 

But Raul.

He wanted Raul, and fuck his future. What did anything matter? He'd only gone to stupid Harvard to get away after he'd lost Raul. And now he could have him back.

Fabio finished another drink.

"Do you think you've had about enough, son?"

Fabio looked up through bleary eyes at the bartender. "What?"

"Enough drink?"

Fabio frowned. "Have I?"

"I think so. Can I get you a cab?"

Fabio nodded and attempted to rise, as he did so, he tripped and crashed into the bar.

"Whoa!" the bartender said and several other patron came to help Fabio to his feet.

"You alright, son?" a man asked.

"I'm fine," Fabio said though his head was smarting.

"You're bleeding!" the bartender said as he grabbed a towel.

"I am?"

"Mate, you need a doctor!" the man pressed the towel into Fabio's forehead which stung horribly.

"Oh," Fabio said and passed out.

* * * *

"Fabio?"

He opened his eyes. "Cesc?"

"Well, hello," Cesc smiled. "Did we have a few too many?"

Fabio closed his eyes and groaned. "Yes."

"Well, it was good you were unconscious. We had to put fifteen stitches in your forehead."

Fabio sighed. "It hurts like hell."

"Yeah, that happens. We can't give you anything until the alcohol wears off," Cesc said. 

"What time is it?"

"About three in the morning."

Fabio opened his eyes again. He noticed they were in a darkened ward with only a light at his bedside to illuminate it.

"Everything alright?" Cesc asked.

Fabio sighed. He was still drunk. He didn't get drunk much and he was beginning to remember why. "No."

"What's up?" Cesc asked. He had a chart on his lap, but had stopped working on it when Fabio had awoken.

"Love."

"Oh," Cesc said. "I'm sorry."

Fabio laughed, and then winced as his head throbbed. "I am sorry."

"Well, we've all gotten ourselves into a mess over love," Cesc sighed. 

Fabio looked at his formerly happy-go-lucky cousin. "You?"

"Danny?"

"Oh," Fabio said. "Yeah, that sucked."

"It really did," Cesc said. "You?"

"Raul Meireles."

"Oh," Cesc said. He'd heard about his cousin and the Duke's son, but he'd thought that was over.

"His wife has died, and he wants me back."

"Oh," Cesc said. "So take him back."

Fabio blinked at Cesc, wondering if he was drunker than he thought. "That easy?"

"Why not?" Cesc asked. "You still love him?"

"Yes."

"He still loves you. Why make it harder than it is."

"But my career," Fabio began, but Cesc's expression grew hard.

"Fuck your career. Did anyone ever write a great poem or novel about the career of their lives? No! People write about love because it's the most important thing! I can't have my love. You can!"

Fabio frowned. "If it were that easy...."

"It is," Cesc said. "Find who you love and the world can fuck off."

Fabio gave his cousin a smile. "That easy?"

"There are too many miserable people in this world," Cesc said.

"Yeah," Fabio said, and thought of Cris. "My brother."

Cesc paused. "Why is your brother miserable?"

"Hello? Iker?"

"But I thought..." Cesc closed his mouth as he nearly spit out that Iker was alive. "He didn't love Iker."

Fabio gave him a look. "Didn't love him? Are you kidding me? He worshiped Iker."

"He cheated on him!"

Fabio waved a hand. "Jose was sex. Sex is not love. Love is....love."

"He didn't want to marry Iker...he left," Cesc said.

"Because our father made him," Fabio shook his head. "He hates himself to this day for having left. He just wished that if nothing else, he could have held Iker's hand as he died."

Cesc looked at Fabio, dumbfounded. "But....Iker's not dead."

Fabio gaped. "He's not?"

"No! Father just told your father that to make Cris...I don't know feel guilty or something! Iker's in Barcelona!"

"Does Iker love Cris?" Fabio asked.

"A lot," Cesc said. "I mean, his every letter is nothing but how he pines for Cris."

"We have to do something," Fabio said. "Cris thinks Iker is dead!"

"Iker thinks Cris doesn't care!"

"Cesc!" Fabio said, his head and his drunkenness forgotten. "Cesc we have to fix this!"

 

Chapter 57

Iker sat on the veranda of Villa’s beach cottage. He stared over the blue of the Mediterranean without actually seeing it.

“Silva and I are going shopping,” his cousin appeared. “You should join us.”

Iker looked at him, his eyes coming into focus. “Sure.”

For a moment, Villa was startled, not having expected Iker to agree. In the two months he’d been with them, Iker had done little but eat and sleep, writing occasional letters to his brother Cesc, but never to his father.

“Excellent,” Villa finally said. “Silva wants to do the food shopping. He loves the hustle and bustle of the Ramblas.”

Iker stood, realizing that he’d once again forgotten to put on shoes. “Give me a few minutes?”

“Of course.”

“HI Iker,” Silva said as he sat, finishing his shopping list. Iker smiled as he walked past. Silva looked at Villa. “He’s coming?”

“He is,” Villa said, kissing the top of Silva’s head. 

“Good,” Silva smiled. He was convinced that Iker, like so many others, disapproved of him and Villa. It was true that Villa had met Silva on the streets, selling his body to stay alive, but Villa had taken one look at the sad brown eyes and taken him home, cleaned him up, and begun to teach him to read and write. People assumed their relationship was about sex and greed, but that was far from the truth. They hadn’t slept together until Silva had been there nearly a year. And now, yes, they lived as a couple, but despite the thoughts of the family, it was love and happiness that kept them together.

Villa realized his cousin was too wrapped up in his own pain to have an opinion about someone else’s life. He laid his hands on Silva’s shoulders and peered down at the list. “Did you check with the cook about the eggs?”

“She says we need more because someone has three at breakfast every day.”

“I do not...” Villa started to protest, and realized he was right. “Only because you eat all the toast!”

Silva giggled and set his pen down. “Here. I’ve got to get the shopping baskets!” He handed Villa his list for inspection. It had started out as a way for Silva to improve his writing, but these days Silva’s penmanship and spelling was better than Villa’s.

Silva went down to the kitchen for the baskets and Villa tucked the list into his coat pocket. He was in charge of the list so Silva could do the selecting and purchasing. Silva could haggle better than anyone, and Villa had actually seen his shopping bills go down since Silva had moved in.

Iker reappeared, shoes on feet.

Silva arrived with his baskets. “Iker, you’ve had a letter from Cesc.”

“Oh,” Iker said as he took the envelope. He loved Cesc’s letters. Cesc was as heartbroken as Iker, but he’d vowed that they must not wallow. Every letter included a small sketch Cesc made of Cloe, and there was a whole row of them in Iker’s mirror.

He tucked the letter in his pocket to enjoy when he got home. 

* * * *

“So, Guti,” Lola said as she surveyed the main lounge of their club, “What do you think?”

“I think you work miracles,” Guti said as he kissed her on the cheek. When Lola had arrived back in London two months ago, the place had been in shambles. The army had not been kind in their temporary ownership, but Lola had set to work, rolling up her sleeves and doing half the work herself. With the help of the staff, the place had been restored to its former glory.

“I do,” Lola agreed.

Pepe walked in, dressing in a perfectly fitted new tuxedo. “Shall I open the doors?”

“Yes, please,” Lola smiled at him. Pepe had disappeared during the war, and neither Lola nor Guti had any idea what their muscular enforcer had been up to, but the day Lola had returned, he’d shown up on the doorstep and gotten back to work. He was fiercely loyal to both Lola and Guti, but they knew they fewer questions they asked, the better.

“So,” Lola said as she poured herself a drink and settled down on a red velvet chaise. “Do you think we’ll be busy tonight?”

Guti chuckled. “Have you seen the stack of membership applications we’ve received?”

“London is ready to enjoy life again,” Lola smiled as she sipped her drink.

The front door opened, and sounds of cheerful voices drifted back to them.

“And we, my dear, are in the business of enjoyment.”

* * * *

Iker found himself carrying a heavy basket of vegetables as Silva attacked the food market. Iker was amazing to watch him haggle on prices, knowing what to look for in the produce, and which stalls had their better wares not on display.

“One more stop,” Silva promised as Iker switched hands again. “Then we can go for a coffee.”

Iker smiled and set the basket down as Silva looked over some dried fruits. 

Villa stood next to him, weighted down with eggs and cheese. 

“He’s rather incredible,” Iker commented as Silva surveyed some plump raisins.

“He is, isn’t he?” Villa replied. “He makes me happy.”

“I can see that,” Iker said. “I’m envious.”

Villa gazed at Iker. “You need to move on.”

“Tell me,” Iker said as Silva monitored the filling of a bag of raisins, “if someone took Silva away from you, and tried to make you think he’d never loved you, would you accept that?”

“No,” Villa said. “But I know he loves me.”

“Cristiano loves me.”

Villa looked at Iker. “You believe that.”

“I know it,” Iker said quietly.

“You father wants to protect you.”

“I’m not a child,” Iker said. 

“Raisins,” Silva said cheerfully and offered the bag to Iker.

“Thank you,” Iker said a plucked a few from the bag.

Silva handed Villa his wallet. “Money left over.”

“One of these days he’s going to come home with more money than he took out,” Villa kissed his cheek.

Silva laughed. “Maybe. Here Iker, I can carry that now.”

Iker gratefully allowed Silva to take the heavy basket, and followed the pair a few buildings up the street to a cafe. Silva settled their purchases in the corner behind an empty table, and they hall gratefully had a seat.

Villa ordered them coffees, and Iker pulled Cesc’s letter out. Opening it, he found the latest sketch of Cloe which he smiled at and set on the table.

“These are so cute,” Silva said as he picked it up carefully.

Iker’s eyes ran over the letter and became very still.

“What is it?” Villa asked as he looked up from the sketch.

“He’s in Venice.”

“Who...Cristiano?” Villa asked.

“He’s in Venice. He was so distraught when they told him I’d died he left England. Cousin Fabio says he’s miserable.”

Silva, who didn’t really know all of the story, looked distraught. “He thinks you’re dead? Why?”

Iker’s features hardened. “Because my father knew it was the only way to keep us apart. He knew Cristiano would never stay away if he knew I was alive.”

Villa wanted to protest on Raul’s behalf, but he realized the truth of this. “You need to go to Venice.”

“I need to go to Venice,” Iker said, standing.

 

 

 

Chapter 58

Sergio slid his hand up Fernando's thigh as he was reading a history book.

"Yes?" Fernando asked, desperately trying to keep his focus on the page in front of him. The text was difficult to understand as these writers all thought it was important to use as big of words as possible to explain even the simplest of concepts.

"Are you busy?" Sergio asked as he groped Fernando's thigh and leaned in to kiss him.

"Yes, I am," Fernando said even as his thighs parted to invite Sergio in.

"You and these books," Sergio complained.

"These books are going to get me into Oxford where you are going to have to start studying as well."

Sergio sighed as his hand slipped between Fernando's legs and fondled him there. "Boring."

Fernando let out a sigh of pleasure. "Why are we going to University, then?"

"So you and I can live together and not with my father any more, but still get him to pay our bills?"

"Sergio!" Fernando laughed and playfully pushed him away, turning his legs under the desk.

Sergio moaned in complaint. "I wanna play."

"Go get Cesc's dog."

Sergio moved behind Fernando and kissed his neck. "That's a girl dog. I want cock."

Fernando tipped his head to allow Sergio better access. "That's the only distinguishing characteristic that concerns you? Gender?"

"Well, and these freckles," Sergio said as he kissed them.

"So if Cesc's dog was a boy with freckles you'd fuck it?"

"Shut up," Sergio chuckled as he pulled Fernando away from the desk. "You need to play more."

"You play enough for the both of us," Fernando chided as he pushed Sergio toward the bed.

"I want you to play with me," Sergio pursed his lips into a delicious pout that Fernando was forced to kiss.

"Play how?" Fernando asked, playing Sergio's hair as Sergio unbuttoned his shirt.

"Come to Guti's club with me."

Fernando's hands stilled. "The sex club?"

Sergio looked up at him. "It's just about having fun- trying new things."

"So you just want an excuse to fuck other people."

"Baby, no," Sergio pleaded as Fernando climbed off of him and rebuttoned his shirt. "I want you."

"I knew you were bored of me," Fernando said, more to himself than Sergio as the tears pricked at the back of his eyes.

"That's not true!" Sergio begged.

Fernando grabbed his book. "I won't stop you. Go do your kinky sex shit with all your other lovers."

"Nando!" Sergio pleaded. "This isn't about that....Nando!" His voice grew angry as Fernando stormed out.

But the door slammed behind Fernando and Sergio was alone.

"Fuck!"

* * * *

Mesut hailed the taxi as it drove toward him, and it pulled immediately to the curb to collect him. He clambered in with his shopping bags.

"Please take me to the Covent Garden Market, Mr. Black."

"Right away, sir," the driver said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Mesut began to riffle through the packages at his feet, ticking off his list as he filled his shopping bags with items from the floor.

"Did you remember the curry powder?" Mesut asked as he looked for the small tin.

"It should be there with the salt," the driver pointed.

"Ah," Mesut found the tin and ticked it off his list. "All here."

The driver pulled the taxi to a stop in front of a tenement house. "So does that leave us a couple of hours?" The driver turned in his seat and Sami's face beamed at Mesut.

"Oh, at least," Mesut grinned back. "You know how that London traffic is and finding that curry powder was a nightmare!"

"Could take all afternoon."

Sami and Mesut scampered up the steps to Sami's flat. Sami had come to London when the family had moved residences. With the help of some fellow war protesters, Sami had secured a new identity for himself and gotten a job as a taxi driver.

No one in the house, not even Cesc or Bojan knew what had become of Sami. When Sami had fully recovered, he'd disappeared, and a tearful Mesut had told them Sami had turned himself in to face his punishment for deserting. They'd heard that if you went willingly, you'd just get a couple of years in jail. The plan was for Sami to reappear in a year or so and ask for his old job back. It wasn't want Sami really wanted, well what he really wanted was Mesut, and he would do anything to keep him this time around.

And so when Andy sent Mesut out shopping, Mesut would call and give Sami the shopping list. Sami would do the shop and pick up Mesut for a rendezvous.

They were barely in the flat before they began tearing at one another's clothes. Having come so close to losing each other, they now appreciated even more what they had.

* * * *

Cristiano sat at a sidewalk cafe in St Mark's Square, scribbling in a notebook. He didn't acknowledge the pretty waitress who came more often than necessary to refill his cup of coffee. It was a cool morning in Venice, and there were few people around. The revels of carnival had faded into the quiet of lent.

Not that Cristiano had noticed the party. Sequestered in his hotel room for the first month he was in Italy, Cristiano had only emerged as the city grew quieter, and his pain less acute.

He'd wandered the streets before finding a small shop which sold the most exquisite pen and paper he'd ever seen. Buying a journal and a pen, he'd sat down and begun to write. First it was ranting at the world, the unfairness of everything, and then mellowed into poetry, often extolling the virtues of his lost lover.

Iker.

Cristiano looked up across the square as the pigeons took flight. A trio of men had entered the square, but Cristiano returned his gaze to the page, uninterested.

His eyes. His eyes had been brown. Such a rich brown. If he closed his eyes he could still see the exact hue of them.

"Cris."

His eyes opened and for a moment, he was sure he was having a hallucination.

"Iker?"

A broad smile crossed the face before him.

"Iker...how can...?"

But before coherent words could form, he found himself in the arms of his beloved. A place he never dreamed he'd be again.

 

Chapter 59

Silva sat at breakfast, sipping wonderfully rich Turkish coffee, as specialty of the hotel, while working his way through a small mountain of breads and cheese. He was sat on the balcony over looking the grand canal, the morning like making Venice feel like he was in the middle of a storybook.

“I’m going to have to take you home before you eat your weight in that bread,” Villa teased as he kissed the top of Silva’s head and stole a fresh roll.

“I’ve begged their chef for a recipe, but he won’t budge,” Silva complained. “So we’ll just have to stay forever.”

Villa chuckled as he poured himself coffee. “I think I could live here in Venice.”

“Me too,” Silva grinned. “Have you seen the lovebirds yet this morning?”

“Alas, I don’t expect to see them for days,” Villa said. “Did you see Iker’s face? And Cris? If I could have a photograph of that moment, I would send it to cousin Raul and he would know how much in love those two really are.”

“Are you going to write him?” Silva asked.

“No,” Raul shook his head. “I promised Iker I would let him tell his father in his own time. I know Raul sent Iker to me for safe keeping, but he is so wrong about them.”

Silva reached for Villa’s hand and squeezed it, both of them knowing too well what the disapproval of parents could do to a relationship.

There was a knock on the door.

“Please tell me you did not order more rolls!” Villa admonished as Silva jumped up.

“I didn’t!” Silva protested as there was still a full basket on the table. He went to answer it, and found Iker and Cristiano, smiles fit to burst off their faces, standing in the door.

“Good morning,” Iker said as he hugged Silva. 

“It is indeed,” Silva said. “Hi Cristiano.”

“Good morning,” Cristiano said, his arm comfortably around Iker’s waist, unable to take his hands off Iker for even a moment.

“There’s breakfast!” Villa called.

“Hey! That’s my breakfast!” Silva complained good naturedly.

“So order more,” Villa said as Iker and Cristiano came to the balcony to join them.

“I will,” Silva said, and went to the phone. 

“Cousin, I have news,” Iker said with a grin.

“So tell!”

“Cristiano and I are going to be married. This evening in St Mark’s.”

“You are!” Villa said, “but...don’t you want to wait...for family?”

Iker sighed and squeezed Cristiano’s hand. “I do wish Cesc could be here, and Fabio, but...”

“We don’t want to wait,” Cristiano said. “No more waiting.”

“We’d rather go home married, and let them deal with us together, so they can never, ever take us apart again,” Iker said. “Could you and Silva be our witnesses?”

“Of course,” Villa agreed. “Of course. But I do think you need to speak with your father.”

“I will,” Iker said. “But not now. Now is for Cristiano and I.”

“Now and forever,” Cristiano said as he kissed Iker.

* * * *

Xavi wiped his dust cloth across the hall table and surveyed his work. 

“Immaculate, as always,” Carles said as he was passing through, carrying a freshly refilled drinks tray. Lord Bernabeu was expecting company for dinner.

“Thank you,” Xavi said.

“Have you got a minute?” Carles asked.

“I was just about to take a break for tea. Andy was testing a new recipe for a caramel cake and he promised me some.”

“Then I’ll join you,” Carles said, his own stomach rumbling at the thought. Bojan had collected a number of recipes during his time in the army, and Andy was intent on trying out all of the French treats.

Xavi took one last look around to be sure he’d not missed anything, and retired to the downstairs where the smell of Andy’s cake filled the kitchens.

“Just finished,” Andy said as he set the cake, dripping with a warm caramel sauce, on the table.

“Oh my heavens,” Xavi inhaled.

Andy turned on the kettle while Xavi found plates and a cake knife. When Carles joined them, they were just sitting down to tea.

“Lord Raul better be careful,” Xavi said as he swallowed his first bite. “Some fancy restaurant is liable to steal you away.”

Andy shrugged. “Why would I want the stress of cooking for the public, when I have a comfortable life here?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Carles said as he too enjoyed some cake.

“Excuse me,” Andy said. “I’ve got to check on the potatoes for dinner.”

Andy left them alone, and Xavi felt the weight of Carles’s stare on him. “So say what you need to say.”

Carles started, always forgetting that Xavi could read his mind. “I just wanted to ask you about Gerard.”

“Gerard?” Xavi asked, sure he’d been in for a lecture about the hours he’d been keeping. “What’s going on with him?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Carles said. “He’s never been the most vocal about himself, but and he’s been...different since the war, but I get the distinct feeling he’s hiding something.”

“What?” Xavi asked. “We know he’s got that lover, Victor.”

Carles raised an eyebrow. “He does?”

Xavi laughed. “Come on, Carles! He was at the Bull more than he was in the house when we were at Bernabeu. And I’m fairly certain that Victor has moved to London as well.”

“Oh.” Carles nodded. “Maybe that’s all, then.”

“Probably,” Xavi said. 

“So,” Carles said in his ‘changing the subject’ voice. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Xavi said, stuffing more cake in his mouth. The chunk was larger than he’d intended, and he nearly choked on it.

Carles gave him a look. “Fine?”

Xavi coughed and took a sip of tea. He looked at Carles. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m just concerned about the hours you’re keeping.”

“I still get my work done, don’t I?”

“Yes, of course!” Carles said, “I don’t mean to question your work.”

“Then what?”

“Xavi,” Carles sighed. “I’m just worried. Does Pep understand your work? How much time it takes and that you can’t just go out on the town at all hours.”

Xavi looked down at his cake. “He’s got a job down at a factory in the East End. He’s making more money than me, and he works only 50 hours a week.”

“He does?” Carles asked. “How is that?”

“Workers are scare,” Xavi said. “And the workers are demanding a better wage.”

“But it’s factory work,” Carles made a face. “Filthy and dangerous.”

“I suppose,” Xavi said. “But if it pays better and means less hours.”

Carles set his tea cup down. He laid a hand on Xavi’s. “Are you happy here?”

“Yes!” Xavi said. “You know I love working for Lord Bernabeu.”

“Then don’t let Pep convince you that you’re not.” As Xavi opened his mouth to protest, Carles cut him off. “I know he cares for you, and I know he wants what’s best for you, but you have to determine that, right?”

“Right,” Xavi agreed. “I just wish he understood this makes me happy.”

“We are loyal servants. Lord Bernabeu respects and values us. I know it is not the same for everyone who is in service, but we are lucky. And we should never forget that.”

 

Chapter 60

Sergio lied to Fernando and told him he was going to dinner with an old friend from school. Still hurt from the interaction the previous day, Fernando made no fuss, saying he had to study, anyway. He was desperate to keep Sergio, and thought the more he let Sergio do as he pleased, the better. He had also realized if he could not keep the young man’s interest for the next few years, Fernando would not only lose his job, but a chance at an education. At least, he told himself, that was the real reason he was trying so hard not to make Sergio angry.

 

The shattering of his heart was something he couldn’t even bear to contemplate.

So while Fernando immersed himself in the writings of Voltaire, Sergio turned up at Guti’s club.

“Where’s Fernando?” Lola asked as Sergio walked in. Sergio had asked Lola if it was alright to bring his fiance, and Lola had been more than happy to agree.

“He doesn’t want to come,” Sergio said.

Lola frowned. “So you came without him?”

“I just needed to get out of the house,” Sergio said, unable to meet her gaze.

“Sergio!” Lord Beckham rose from his chair and came to greet him. “Oh it’s been so long!”

“David, behave,” Lola ordered as he grabbed Sergio’s ass.

“Never,” David said as he flashed Lola a grin. 

“Where’s Fabio?” Lola asked pointedly.

“Work,” David sighed. “Work, work, work.”

Lola took Sergio’s arem and guided him to a couch. She didn’t know exactly what was going on between Sergio and Fernando, but she also knew that Sergio was in a fragile state, and without supervision, was likely to get himself into trouble.

* * * *

Cesc let out a whoop of joy as he read Iker’s letter, post marked from Italy.

“What is it,” asked Bojan, who had delivered the letter along with Cesc’s evening tea.

“They’re getting married!” Cesc gushed, and then slapped his hand over his mouth. Cloe danced at his feet, sensing the excitement.

“Who?” Bojan asked, eyes wide.

“Oh,” Cesc said, bursting to tell the news, but knowing it needed to stay secret.

“Is it Iker?” Bojan asked, as he was one of the few people who knew Iker’s whereabouts.

“You can’t say a word,” Cesc implored him. “Not even to Carles.”

“But...who is he marrying...is it Lord Cristiano? How?”

“Oh,” Cesc wailed, but the cat was already out of the bag. “We all thought Cristiano didn’t really care about Iker, but then I was talking with Fabio and apparently Cristiano was absolutely crushed when he was told Iker had died. I realized that they were meant to be, and I wrote to Iker. Now they’ve found each other and gotten married!”

“Oh,” Bojan sighed. “That is so romantic.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Cesc said as he sank down into a chair. Cloe hopped up into his lap and he began to absently stroke her ears, “Bojan, when do we get our happy ending?”

“I don’t know,” Bojan sighed as he poured a cup of tea for Cesc, adding the milk and sugar.

Cesc took the tea. “Love should be easier.” He gestured for Bojan to sit, even though he should have been working. “ You know? Love should just be finding a good person who cares for you and being happy. No one should get in the way.”

“I suppose if it was easy it wouldn’t be so wonderful, would it?”

“True,” Cesc agreed. “Maybe that’s what makes it so lovely. Have you ever been in love Bo?”

Bojan shrugged, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know. I suppose I know I’ve never been in love with someone who loved me back. Not like I want.”

“Like me and Danny?” Cesc asked wistfully.

“Yeah,” Bojan picked at a thread on his pants. “Love that you’d do anything to keep.”

Cesc sighed and sipped his tea. “Sometimes even if you are willing to do everything it still doesn’t work out.”

“Is he really never coming back?” Bojan asked quietly.

“No,” Cesc said, and realized it was the first time he’d actually admitted it, even to himself, “He’s not.”

“Maybe you should move on,” Bojan suggested.

“I know I should,” Cesc said. “He’s gone and he’s not coming back no matter how hard I wish for it. He’s a prince and he as no freedom.”

“Who would ever think that all the money and power would be a curse.”

Cesc looked at Bojan. “It really is.” He thought for a moment. “I mean- you- you could have gone and done anything after the war, but Danny’s path was chosen. Even Iker and Cris had to fight, you know?”

“Being poor isn’t all fun,” Bojan reminded him.

“I know,” Cesc agreed, “but at least you can marry who you want.”

Bojan looked at his hands. “Not always.”

* * * *

Guti joined the party in the main lounge, frowning when he saw Sergio with Lola. And Lord Beckham hovering like a hungry predator.

“Good evening,” Guti said as he kissed Sergio on the cheek.

“Guti,” Sergio said with a half hearted smile.

“Guti, Lord Beckham was asking about the new toy room. Would you be a dear and show it to him?” Lola purred.

The look on David’s face clearly said that he’d asked no such thing, but David was far too well bred to contradict Lola.

“Of course, my dear,” Guti agreed and led the disgruntled Lord away.

“You and I need to talk,” Lola said and pulled Sergio up from the couch.

For a moment, Sergio thought the older woman meant to seduce him, but as he followed he found himself in a quiet, rather girly sitting room instead of one of the house’s many sex chambers.

Lola poured them both small glasses of sherry. “So, tell me about Fernando.”

Sergio looked at her. In truth, he didn’t know Guti’s partner all that well. He got the sense his father wasn’t her biggest fan, and Lola kept out of his way.

“What about him?”

Lola gave a delicate shrug. “Well, we could start with me reminding you how much you love an adore him, or we could get right into why you are here without him and what the hell you’re doing sabotaging such a wonderful relationship?”

Sergio blinked. “You get right to the point, don’t you?”

“It’s a part of my charm,” Lola said. “Sergio. What’s wrong?”

Sergio looked down. “All he cares about is studying. He doesn’t want to spend any time with me.”

“He’s studying for his university entrance exams?”

“Yes.”

“So you think maybe the reason he’s studying so hard is because he wants to be sure he gets into university so the two of you can be together? So you don’t leave him behind.”

Sergio stared at her, dumbfounded. “But...I don’t care about university. I just want to be with him. To have fun!”

“Darling,” Lola put her hand over Sergio’s. “You’re what, twenty -four now?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe it’s time to grow up. Life isn’t all fun and sex and parties.”

Sergio pouted. “Your life is.”

Lola laughed. “Oh, that it was. You only see the fun parts. When the club isn’t open, Guti and I spend hours doing the books, supervising the staff, and well, even when we’re open we have to deal with clients. It takes a lot of work to make it look effortless!”

“Oh,” Sergio said.

“And Fernando has worked his whole life. Maybe he does need to loosen up a little, but you’ve got to meet him halfway.”

Sergio’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t lose him.”

“So don’t push him away.”

* * * *

“So,” Cristiano said as Iker emerged from the bath, a towel slung loosely around his hips. Cristiano stared.

“Yes?” Iker asked as he used another towel to dry his hair.

“As much as I would love to spend the rest of my days here in the bed with you.”

Iker smiled as he dropped both towels.

Cristiano licked his lips as he took in the view.

“You were saying?” Iker teased.

“Was I?” Cristiano wondered as he reached for Iker. He pulled him close, kissing him deeply as his hands cupped Iker’s firm ass.

Iker stepped back, causing Cristiano to moan in complaint. “Yes. We were about to have an important discussion.”

Cristiano pulled the sash off of his dressing gown and let it fall to the floor.

Iker struggled to keep his eyes up. “Now, I say we go back to Barcelona with my cousins. It’s still winter in London, and I hate winter in London.”

Cristiano dropped on to the bed and posed himself like a pin-up model: head resting on his hand, the other on his hip, cock half hard.

Iker cleared his throat. “Don’t you agree?”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Cristiano grinned wickedly.

Iker gave in and fell into a fit of giggles. Cristiano began to laugh as well, and let out an “Ooof!” as Iker tackled him on the bed.

Iker kissed Cristiano deeply, his heart truly at peace for the first time since the death of his mother so many years ago. Cristiano loved him, they were married, and nothing would ever keep them apart.

And Iker was getting rather good at this making love, he thought as his hands wandered down to Cristiano’s hips and rubbed against his cock, making his husband moan.

Cristiano’s hands were back on Iker’s ass as he encouraged him. Once Iker had gotten over his initial shyness in bed, Cristiano had found him willing to try just about anything.

Rolling Iker onto his back, Cristiano broke the kiss and gazed down at Iker. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

Iker smiled as he spread his thighs. “You make me everything I am.”

Cristiano shook his head. “No. You make me everything I am.”

“Are we going to argue about this?”

“Yes,” Cristiano said. “You’re more perfect.”

“You are.”

“No....” Cristiano fell into a fit of giggles as Iker tickled his sides.

Iker laughed with him as Cristiano fell against him in a heap. But their laughter was short lived as their cocks rubbed together. Cristiano pulled back so his hand could wrap around Iker’s cock.

Iker groaned as Cristiano’s warm hand closed around his hardening shaft. “Yes, baby, yes.”

“Yes what?” Cristiano demanded in a harsh whisper.

“Oh, God, Cris, please.”

“Please what?” Cristiano breathed hotly against Iker’s ear. They were working on Iker’s dirty talk, the well brought up young man reluctant to swear, even when they were alone.

“Fuck me,” Iker begged as Cristiano’s hand twisted around his cock.

“How do you want it, baby?”

Iker gasped as his cock was abandoned and soon two fingers began exploring his well used hole.

“From behind,” Iker said. “Oh Cris.”

“You like it rough, baby?”

“Yes, god...hard.” Iker said, eyes closed tight, body nearly ready to explode with all the wonderfullydirtywrongsosoright of it all.

Crisitano pressed two fingers into Iker, loosening him up, always wanting it comfortable, even if Iker wanted it hard.

He soon had Iker gasping and moaning, loosened up enough for Cristiano’s cock and begging to be filled. Cristiano’s fingers slid out of him, and Iker was on his knees, round ass in the air, begging for Cristiano.

Cristiano teased Iker, pushing in slowly, loving the way his husband gasped and begged beneath him, holding on to his control just ever so slightly longer than Iker managed. But soon he too lost himself within Iker’s depths, reveling in the fact that nothing could ever tear them apart again.


	7. Chapters 61-70

Chapter 61

Fernando was reading a book. Well, his eyes were going across the pages of a book. He saw none of it.

The door to the bedroom opened, and Sergio walked in.

Fernando couldn’t look at him. “How was your dinner?”

And then Sergio was on his knees next to Fernando.

“I didn’t go to dinner. I lied to you.”

Fernando’s eyes snapped to Sergio’s face, and there were tears.

“I went to the club.”

Fernando’s heart froze.

“I didn’t do anything. I don’t even think I wanted to, but I was so confused. You’re pushing me away and I can’t...”

“Pushing you away?” Fernando said. “I...”

“All you do is read!” Sergio said. “I finally got you to stop cleaning my house and now you read books and write essays and...”

Sergio broke off as he started to cry in earnest.

Fernando took Sergio face in his hands. “I’m not pushing you away! You’re the one who’s bored with me!”

“I’m not!” Sergio begged. “I...well...I wish we could go out. Have fun, but you just want to study.”

“I have to!” Fernando said. “I never went to school, you know this. I can only read and write because of my mother. I’ll never pass these exams if I don’t!”

“Fernando,” Sergio said with a sniffle. “You are twice as smart as me. I got in.”

Fernando cracked as smile. “I am not.”

“You are,” Sergio said. “I’m hoping you will help me get through. I’ve barely cracked a book since school. Five years ago.”

Fernando grinned. “Which is why you should study and stop hanging out at sex clubs.”

Sergio’s face sobered. “I’m sorry I lied. I...”

Fernando caressed his face. “I wish you hadn’t.”

“I know,” Sergio said. “Lola put me straight. She made sure I didn’t do anything stupid. And she told me off for hurting you.”

Fernando smiled. “I like that Lola.”

“She’s alright,” Sergio agreed as he took Fernando’s hand. “Please? Please can you take some breaks and go out with me? I want to show you off, my beautiful fiance.”

“I’m just the maid,” Fernando blushed. 

“No,” Sergio said. “You’re my Fernando. My perfect Fernando.” He laid his head on Fernando’s lap.

Fernando stroked his head. “Thank you.” 

There were several moments of silence as they held each other.

“I can go to the club with you, if you want.”

Sergio looked up. “You will?”

“Just...” Fernando said. “I don’t want to be with anyone else but you, okay?”

“Yes,” Sergio nodded. “Yes, all I wanted was you, too. I never meant us to have others. I just thought....we could have fun. Try new things.”

“You bored having sex with me?” Fernando asked, hurt showing on his face.

“Never,” Sergio assured him. “Never once.”

Fernando processed this. “I just....I don’t know other things to do.”

Sergio looked up. “I don’t know everything either. I just want to try...have fun.”

Fernando looked down at him. “Promise you’re not bored of me?”

“Never, my love. Never ever.”

“I love you so much some times it scares me,” Fernando said as Sergio rose. “If you left me I’d die.”

Sergio pulled Fernando to his feet. “Then I will never leave you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Sergio said as he leaned forward for a kiss. “Now. Where were we before we were interrupted?”

Fernando grinned and pulled Sergio to the bed. “You were here.” He pushed Sergio down and climbed on top. “I was here.”

“Oh yes.” Sergio nodded. “This is good.”

“So,” Fernando said as he kissed Sergio and tilted his hips down into him. “If we were trying something new. Where would we start?”

Sergio laid his hands on Fernando’s hips. “Oh...how about...You get naked and I’ll be right back?”

Fernando smiled and stole one last kiss. “Alright.”

He let Sergio up and began to disrobe. He was a little apprehensive about what Sergio had in mind, but he reminded himself that Sergio would never hurt him. A few minutes later, Fernando lay naked in the bed and Sergio returned, in only his dressing gown, holding what appeared to be curtain ties.

Fernando smiled. They’d done this before. It was, actually, rather amazing. He let Sergio loosely tie his wrists to the headboard, and awaited his reward.

But Sergio went to his desk and pick up his copy of Shakespeare and his fountain pen.

Fernando frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Lola suggested that I meet you half way. We have fun and study.”

Sergio climbed on to the bed and perched at Fernando’s side. “What are we working on?”

“I just finished Henry V.”

“Oh,” Sergio frowned. “That’s no good.”

“I need to read The Tempest.”

“Oh...good,” Sergio beamed as he paged through the volume of plays. “Ah. Here we go.” He looked at the scribblings in the margins and looked at Fernando. “This is my book, from when I was at school.”

“I know,” Fernando said. “Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect,” Sergio said and laid a kiss on Fernando’s pale stomach. “Now,” he took the pen in hand and peered at the text. “We have a shipwreck on an island.” He wrote “shipwreck” in careful script on Fernando’s abdomen.

Fernando squirmed at the tickle of the pen. “We do?”

“Yes,” Sergio said, peering again at the book. “There is Ferdinand, who is in love with Miranda.”

“Ferdinand?” Fernando grinned and then squirmed again as the name was penned on his flesh. “Does that make you Miranda?”

Sergio frowned at him. “If you cannot take this seriously, I am going to have to punish you.”

Fernando bit his lip. “I’ll be good. Ferdinand. Miranda. Shipwreck.”

“Yes,” Sergio nodded. Fernando imagined Sergio with a pair of spectacles on his nose, looking down at the book in all seriousness. “Now, on this Island, we have Caliban, who is a savage.”

“Oooh, is he?”

“That’s it,” Sergio got up, and for a moment, Fernando was afraid he’d actually angered his lover. But Sergio went to the desk and rummaged around until he found a ruler. He returned to Fernando, and slapped the wooden instrument hard against Fernando’s lush thighs.

The crack of the stick and the sting shot hot desire through Fernando. He let out a hiss of pain and pleasure. “I’m sorry!”

“We have this whole play to get through!” Sergio admonished him as he settled back into place. “Now. Alonso is the king.”

“Of the Island?”

CRACK!

“Of Naples! Stop interrupting me!”

Fernando bit his lit not to laugh out loud at Sergio’s petulance, which he could now tell was entirely for effect.

“Nipples?”

CRACK!

“NAPLES.”

Fernando twisted against his bonds as his cock hardened. Sergio’s robe had fallen open, revealing his own solidifying shaft.

“Ferdinand is the son of Alonso,” Sergio said and wrote, his handwriting becoming shaky as Fernando panted near his ear. “And they are shipwrecked on this island.”

“Of Caliban.”

“Yes.”

“With Miranda?”

“No, Miranda was on the island.”

“Why?”

“Because she lived there!”

“Who lives on an island?”

CRACK! “WE live on an island.”

Fernando moaned. “We do?”

CRACK!

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Sergio...” Fernando moaned, the teasing making cum leak from the tip of his cock.

Sergio smacked him again. “You have no attention span.”

“I’m horny as hell!”

“If I blow you can we get back to this?”

“No,” Fernando writhed. “Cock.”

“It’s going to take us forever to read this play,” Sergio said even as the book was pushed aside and his gown discarded.

“Sergio...please,” Fernando said, astounded at his level of horniness. He splayed his thighs and welcomed Sergio between them. 

If Shakespeare make Fernando beg, Sergio’s fingers pulling him open, ready for his cock, make Fernando mindless. 

Sergio slid into him, feeling free, light, and complete. Yes. Yes, he and Fernando would find a place for them to be, that made them both happy a fulfilled.

 

Chapter 62

Cesc had a blessed weekend off and he wanted to do something fun. Well, after he slept all day Saturday, then he would go and have some fun.

What he really, really wanted to do was go visit Guti's club. When he'd been there at 16, he'd had no idea why people went to places like that, but 5 years later, he realized there was a lot of fun to be had.

And after losing Danny, he didn't want another relationship right now. He just wanted to have some sex. 

Friday evening as he came downstairs for dinner, he found Guti reading a book, sipping a glass of whiskey.

"Good evening," he said, smiling at Cesc.

Cesc swallowed hard. It was surely fate that he'd found Guti alone, without his father. "Good evening."

"Everything alright?" Guti asked, nothing Cesc appeared rather nervous.

"Me? Fine...fine fine," Cesc blithered.

"You want a drink?" Guti asked as he closed his volume of dirty stories Lola had ordered from France.

"Sure!" Cesc chirped.

Guti got up and pour Cesc a measure of whiskey. "How's your training?"

"Good," Cesc said, as it really was. He had a great cohort of doctor trainees he was working with, and the doctors in charge were all competent and not assholes.

"Good," Guti said with a sly smile. Cesc wanted something, and Guti had an inkling of what it might be. As he sat again, he observed the young man who took too big of a gulp of the whiskey, and sputtered.

Cesc flushed.

"So, Cesc, I've been meaning to ask you," Guti said, taking a sip of his own drink and running his tongue completely unnecessarily along the rim.

"Yes?" Cesc's voice cracked.

"I was just wondering if you might want to come and visit our club some time."

"Yes!"

Guti grinned, "Take a minute to think about it, if you want."

"I mean," Cesc said. "I....I'd like to...try..."

"That's what it's all about," Guti said.

"Will my father mind, do you think?"

"Why?" Guti asked. "Sergio's been."

"He HAS?" Cesc asked, dumbfounded.

"Even Xabi's been."

"XABI?" Cesc squeaked. "Surely not Iker."

"No, not Iker," Guti said. "How is Iker?"

Cesc looked down. "Well, uh..."

"Does he like Barcelona?" Guti pressed, sensing Cesc knew something that perhaps Raul didn't.

"It's fine," Cesc said, and for a moment, wondered if Guti had seen Iker's letters from Italy. He wouldn't have known what they said, but the postmark...

"Good," Guti said dropping it. "And if you want, you can bring your friend, Bojan."

Cesc's eyes got wide. "Okay."

Guti grinned. "Good."

* * * *

Fernando smoothed his hair down as he looked at himself in the mirror. Butterflies fluttered around his stomach. He and Sergio had never been out together, socially, and for their first outing they were going to a sex club?

Sergio came up behind him and nuzzled his neck. "The hell with the club, I could fuck you right here you are so sexy in that suit."

Fernando smiled. "Love you."

"Love you too, baby," Sergio kissed his cheek. "Can you believe Cesc and Father will be there tonight?"

"Your father will be there?" Fernando asked, alarmed.

"Guti said he mostly hangs out in the lounge," Sergio assured him.

Fernando turned and kissed Sergio. “I’m just always afraid he still thinks of me as the maid.”

Sergio kissed him back deeply. “When will you learn that I don’t give a fuck when anyone thinks about you and me?”

“I know.”

There was a knock on the door. “Come.”

Cesc peered in. “You guys about ready?”

“You look nice,” Fernando said as he stepped away from Sergio.

“Do I look okay?”

“The point of tonight is for you to get out of your clothes baby brother,” Sergio said as he checked his hair and took Fernando’s hand.

Cesc blushed. “What if....”

“What?”

“What if no one wants to have sex with me?”

Fernando chuckled. “Cesc, trust me, that won’t be a problem. Besides, I thought you were bringing Bojan.”

Cesc blinked. “What... I mean...he’s coming too, but...”

Sergio frowned. “I thought you two were...?”

“No!” Cesc said. “I mean... does Bojan think we are?”

Fernando shrugged. “I just assumed.”

“Bojan’s cute,” Sergio said as he looked for Cesc’s reaction.

Cesc shrugged. “I don’t think Father could handle any more shocks right now.”

“Shocks?” Sergio asked.

“I...uh...” Cesc said. “We should go.”

“Oh no,” Sergio said and caught Cesc in a headlock like he hadn’t done in years. “What’s going to shock dad?”

“Uncle!” Cesc bleated, but Sergio didn’t let up.

“Tell me, you little shit, or I’ll handcuff you to Guti’s bed!”

Cesc squeaked. “Iker!”

Sergio let go. “What about him?”

Cesc danced away. “You can’t tell anyone?”

“Who would I tell?” Sergio asked as he glanced at Fernando.

Cesc closed the door and looked at Sergio with a wide grin. “Iker went to Venice and found Cristiano and they were married last week!”

“Oh!” Fernando said with a grin. 

Sergio’s brow furrowed. “But I thought...”

“We were all wrong,” Cesc said. “Cristiano really does love him. And...oh you should read the letters, Sergio. Iker is so happy.”

Sergio’s face softened. “He’s happy?”

“Oh, Sergio, happier than he’s ever been.”

“Good,” Sergio said approvingly. “Iker deserves some happiness.”

* * * *

Fabio lounged on a chaise, sipping his second tumbler of whiskey, and resisted the urge to look at his watch again. David was never one for punctuality, but he was over an hour late.

Avoiding the glances of an older man who clearly wanted to befriend Fabio, he realized his glass was empty. He rose from his seat, and in that moment, decided he was just going to leave.

“Fabio!”

He turned and saw his cousins entering, an entourage with Sergio at the lead, his fiance behind him, Cesc, and a slight boy Fabio vaguely recognized. All three looked incredibly nervous.

“Cousin,” Fabio said with a smile and was embraced.

“You must have a drink with us,” Sergio said. “Fabio, do you know our friend, Bojan?”

Fabio smiled at the young man, wondering where he came from and why he was familiar. “I don’t think so.”

Cesc rolled his eyes. “Yes you do, he works at our house.”

Fabio bit his lip, the alcohol nearly letting a rude comment slip. “Ah yes.” While Fabio knew, as a politician, the world was rapidly changing as they barreled toward the next decade, but honestly, since when was it ever okay to date the help?

Lola slid up in a slinky red dress that found Cesc gazing down her cleavage. “Boys.”

“Hi Auntie Lola!” Cesc chirped, a joke he had started a few weeks ago.

“You are such a bad boy,” Lola shook her head at him and turned to Bojan. “I’m so glad you came, Bo.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, now stop that at once!” Lola demanded. “Call me Lola, or Auntie Lola, or you dirty whore for that matter, but do not call me ma’am!”

Fernando’s eyes got wide at the irreverence of the woman, but he had to admit, she had guts.

“Boys, let me get you a drink and introduce you to a friend of mine,” Lola said as she took Bojan’s arm.

Bojan was breathless at the proximity of the woman, and found it next to impossible to keep from staring down her cleavage.

Behind the bar was a tall brunette. The boys all looked at her curiously.

“Lads, this is Hope. She is American and was sent to London to meet nice young men. How she ended up here is a mystery.” Lola winked at Hope.

Mystery solved.

Hope made them drinks while they all chatted. Tensions eased as Lola flirted with everyone and made a point of including everyone.

“Guti has asked that you all come upstairs to his private sitting room,” Lola said once everyone was watered. “You too, Fabio.”

“Well, I was waiting...” Fabio started, but Lola cut him off.

“Lord Beckham knows his way upstairs,” Lola assured him.

Fernando’s eyes shot to Sergio’s face at the mention of his old lover, but Sergio was looking at him with a smile of desire.

Lola led the way up the back stairs to an elegant sitting room. Sergio had not been here before, and he was beginning to wonder exactly how big this place was. 

Guti was no where to be seen, and Sergio had an idea where his father’s lover was.

* * * *

Wrapped around Raul, sweaty and sated, Guti sighed as there was a light tap at the door. It was Lola letting him know his other guests had arrived. He kissed Raul’s temple.

Raul let out a sigh of happiness. “Work?”

“It’s your sons,” Guti said as he rose, pulling the sheet over Raul to hold in some warmth for his lover.

Raul closed his eyes with a sigh. “How are my sons old enough to be here?”

“Your little boys are all grown up,” Guti smiled as he looked for his clothes. Raul always managed to toss them about in his haste.

“Hush,” Raul said. “I suppose I should join you.”

“No,” Guti said. “I want you lying here naked while I make the guest happy. And then I will come back and continue what I’ve started here.”

Raul opened his eyes to see Guti pulling on his trousers. “You don’t think that would be rude?”

“Sergio had enough trouble getting Fernando here, you glaring at him will not help things at all.”

“I do not glare at Fernando!” Raul replied, indignant.

“You do, love. No man is good enough for any of your sons.”

Raul frowned. “That’s not true...I liked Danny.”

Guti chuckled. “A prince and no less?”

Raul sighed. “I do like Fernando, but it’s hard.”

“I know,” Guti said. “But he’s here to stay. And he’s lovely.”

“I know,” Raul said. “And Sergio’s happy, so that’s all that matters?”

“Precisely.” Guti gave him a last kiss and went to join the others.

 

Chapter 63

Guti stepped into the room, and every eye turned to look at him. Guti beamed at the attention. "Good evening everyone."

"Guti, darling," Lola said as he approached her and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Of course he'd just seen her not an hour before, but it was all about the the appearances.

"How is everyone?" Guti asked as he surveyed the assembly, already making plans in his head. People counted on Guti to make sure they had a good time. He saw the nervous Fernando with an empty glass and made a move to refill it. "Fernando, darling, are you finally allowing Sergio to buy you gorgeous things?" He asked as he took the glass, fingers brushing against his wrist.

"I told him the suit was perfect for him," Sergio said with a proprietary arm around Fernando.

"And Bojan," Guti said as he saw the wide-eyed maid. His suit was a bit ill-fitting as it was certainly borrowed from Cesc.

"Good evening, Lord Guti," Bojan said, eyes averting.

"You don't have to call him Lord," Cesc admonished.

"No, I like it," Guti said as he brushed a kiss on Bojan's cheek and whispered. "I'll have you later."

Bojan felt weak at the offer. "Okay."

"Better than calling Lola a dirty whore," Cesc grinned.

"Francesc!" Guti turned to glare at him.

"She told us we could!" Cesc squeaked.

Lola let out a throaty chuckle. "I did."

"My Lola is not a whore," Guti said. He saw Fabio, decidedly pouting in the corner. The conversations around him resumed as he poured Fernando's drink. After delivering it, he went to Fabio with fresh drinks for both of them. 

"How are you, darling?"

"Fine," Fabio said.

"Bullshit," Guti said. "Where is David?"

Fabio shrugged. "Guess he's bored of me."

Guti didn't even try to deny this statement. He loved David like a brother, but he knew the Duke could be capricious at best.

"So," Guti said, moving the subject on, "do you think Sergio can talk Fernando into my toy room, or are we going to be having some pretty vanilla sex over there?"

Fabio cracked a smile as he looked at the pair. His wild cousin had managed to pick the most down to earth, conservative partner. "Vanilla, even if you get him drunk."

Guti bit his lip. "I adore you, Fabio."

Fabio smiled a wide, genuine smile. 

"So, Fernando and Sergio in the lovers suite- is Cesc here WITH Bojan? Do you think he'd mind if I stole his play thing?"

"I don't know," Fabio said as he observed the pair. "I think Bojan is here with Cesc, but Cesc isn't here with Bojan, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, quite," Guti agreed. "So I seduce Bo and save Cesc the embarrassment when Bojan tries to lunge at him?"

"Yes," Fabio agreed.

Guti rose and went to sit with Bojan. Cesc was involved in a lively discussion with Lola, who'd done nursing work, about what the worst part of the medical profession was. Lola was arguing it was the smell. Cesc was sure it was the paperwork.

There was a knock on the door, and Fabio looked up expectantly. 

"Come," Lola called with a frown. The staff knew this was a private party.

Hope's face appeared looking nervous. "Uhm, Lola?"

"Yes, darling?" Lola said, attempting to hide her irritation. The girl was new, the rebellious daughter of an American businessman who'd thought he was leaving her in Lola's care to be shown the finer sides of London society and had no idea his precious little girl was a bit of a freak.

"Uhm...Lord Miereles was looking for Lord Coentrao."

Fabio shot out of his chair as the door opened wider and Raul stood there.

"Fabio," Raul sighed with a slightly drunk, desperate sigh.

"What do you want?" Fabio demanded. No. He thought. No, no, I can't have you, no...

"I need...to see you."

Lola rose to intervene, before a scene started. "Lord Miereles, why don't we take this to another room."

Raul nodded, and Fabio stepped forward, even against his will.

Lola grabbed Hope's upper arm, squeezing it with bruising strength. "Hope..."

To her credit, the young woman didn't let out a sound as she let herself be pushed out of the room. Lola showed Raul and Fabio to an unused suite and then dragged her protege down the hall.

"Lola!" Hope whined once they were alone, but Lola didn't loosen her grip.

"What do you think you're doing bringing him up here!"

"Lola, I'm sorry! He was desperate to see Fabio!"

"You know better!" Lola shoved her into her own room, which was decorated in deep pink silks. "You know we don't ever, ever reveal who is here!"

Lola gave her a shove, and Hope when tumbling down to her knees. "Lola, I'm sorry." She looked up, big blue eyes pleading forgiveness.

She got a slap across the face. "You know the rules."

"Lola!"

"I will be back in five minutes. You'd better be ready."

* * * *

Fabio meant to resist. To yell at Raul for seeking him out. To send him away.

But the moment the door closed, he was in his arms. Their lips crashed together in desperate lust. It had been years, but the moment they touched, it was yesterday, and they knew each other perfectly.

Raul tore at Fabio's clothes, not sure how long before Fabio tried to stop him, needing as much of him as he could get. He knew he'd taken a risk in coming here, but he didn't know what else to do. He'd honestly expected to find Fabio wrapped in the arms of Lord Beckham, but instead...

Fabio dragged him toward the bed, clothes flying, hands everywhere. Yes. Yes, he hadn't felt like this since the last time. No matter how many times with David it was never like this.

You can have him now, the little voice in Fabio's head told him. His wife is gone, there is nothing between you any more.

The thought was driven away as Raul's hot hand closed around Fabio's cock. "Oh, god..." Fabio moaned. He fumbled in the bedside table, knowing Guti kept supplies in all the rooms, and came up with a jar of lubricant. 

Raul moaned with lust as it was thrust into his hand. He pulled Fabio to the bed and shoved him face down on to it. Fabio lay, panting as Raul got the jar open and scooped out a finger full of the lubricant. With little preamble, he started working into Fabio, groaning with his lover who writhed.

Yes...this was what had been missing from both of their lives. Rough, horny sex. When Raul pushed his needy member into his long lost lover, he closed his eyes and prayed that this was for real.

Forever.

 

 

Chapter 64

Guti tried to get the conversations back on track after the departure of Lola and Fabio, but the newcomers seemed to have gotten shier for the disruption.

“Sergio, do you want to show Fernando to a room? I’ve reserved one of my favorite rooms for you?”

Sergio nodded and stood. 

“Room 9,” Guti said as he handed him a key and kissed his cheek.

Sergio took Fernando’s hand and the blond tried to smile confidently, but it faltered on his face.

Cesc found himself alone with Bojan and Guti, and looked decidedly nervous as well. “So...”

But then Lola returned, her pretty features creased with anger.

“Lola,” Guti said, a slight warning in his tone. They did not need to be bringing the office problems to the clients.

Lola took a deep breath. “Many apologies,” she said with a smile. “Hope is...new.”

“She’s gorgeous,” Cesc sighed, and then his eyes got wide as he realized he’d said it aloud. “I mean....”

Lola turned to him, a wicked grin forming on her face. “Cesc, darling. Could you possibly do me a tiny little favor?”

Guti glanced at Lola and then shook his head in resignation. Once Lola had a dirty scheme, there was no stopping her. “Bojan, I wondered if you’d like to join me for...a private discussion.”

Cesc and Bojan glanced at each other for a second and then nodded. “Sure.”

* * * *

Nervously, Bojan followed Guti to a room, half expecting to find Lord Raul lounging, but fortunately (maybe) the room was empty.

“Mmm, I’m so glad you came here tonight,” Guti said as he wrapped his arms around Bojan from behind. 

Bojan jumped at the contact, but quickly settled back into Guti. In truth, when Cesc had asked him here tonight, he’d been thinking that he and Cesc...might...you know.

“So, Bojan. What are you in the mood for?” Guti asked as he kissed the young man’s neck.

Bojan let out a nervous giggle. “I don’t know.”

“What do you usually do when you fuck?”

“Turn off the lights and hope for the best?”

Guti chuckled. “Oh Bo.”

Bojan stepped away and gave him a lopsided grin. “Sorry.”

“Never. Never be sorry,” Guti said. “Tell me what you’ve done.” He started to pull off his own jacket, watching Bojan with predatory eyes.

“Uhm...” Bojan swallowed hard. “Just...uhm...hands...and...stuff.”

Guti paused. “Have you ever...had anal?”

Bojan turned pink up to his ears. “No.”

“Do you want to?” 

Bojan fiddled with his cufflinks. “Does it hurt?”

Guti shook his head. “Not if you do it right.”

“Oh,” Bojan said.

“Bo, baby, you just have to loosen up.”

“My ass?”

Guti choked back a laugh. “Well, yes, that too.”

“Oh my god I’m so stupid.” Bojan buried his face in his hands.

“Oh Bo,” Guti said as he crossed over to the upset young man. “No one things you’re stupid. You’ve just never tried.”

“How does anyone get good at sex!” Bojan wailed.

“Trust me,” Guti pulled his hands to him and kissed them. “Lots and lots of practice. Now get your clothes off.”

* * * *

Lola returned to her room with Cesc following behind and they were greeted to the sight of Hope, naked, laid over a bench.

Cesc gaped. “H-h-hope?”

Hope looked up, curtain of long brown hair obscuring her face. She pushed back her hair and looked startled to see him.

“Cesc!”

Lola approached Hope and laid a heavy slap on her pale, heart-shaped ass. “You address ME.”

“Yes mistress,” Hope gasped.

Cesc looked at Lola. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Punishing Hope for disobeying the rules. You want a drink?”

Cesc’s jaw dropped. 

Lola looked over her shoulder. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, Cesc, darling, but Hope has been such a bad girl, this is more than I can handle.”

Cesc looked at Lola and then back at Hope, the red print of Lola’s hand blossoming on the pure white of Hope’s creamy skin.

Lord, this was dirty.

“I can stay.”

“I knew you would,” Lola purred and handed him a glass. She kissed him lightly. “You have,” she kissed him again, “the most luscious lips.”

Lola knew that she was playing with fire a bit, that Raul, who she had a best a tentative truce with, would be unhappy if he knew what she was doing with his son.

But Hope was being a submissive as hell, and Cesc...lord he was pretty.

Lola kissed him deeply and pulled herself away. “So. What should we do to her first?”

Cesc was staring into her eyes, mesmerized. “Do?”

“To Hope,” Lola purred.

“Oh,” Cesc looked over, having the distinct desire to run his hands through her made of long brown hair. “Would she get jealous if she had to watch you undress me?”

“She does get jealous,” Lola as she glanced at Hope who was lying perfectly still over the bench. “Cesc makes you jealous, doesn’t he?”

“Yes mistress,” Hope replied, voice miserable. She knew she had done something against the rules and needed to be punished, but Raul had looked so desperate to find Fabio, and she knew Lord Beckham had deserted Fabio for the evening. Hadn’t she kept her mouth shut when David had arrived early and disappeared into a room with Lord Neville? And now Lola, her Lola was fondling this...boy!

As Hope watched Lola skimmed her hands across Cesc’s shoulders as she removed his coat. It fell to the floor in a heap. Impulsively, Hope crawled over to pick it up, and hung it over the bed post.

Lola looked down at her with an approving smile. “Oh, Hope, such a good girl.”

Hope sat back on her heels, hair covering her face and chest, head down.

Lola reached down and pushed her hair over her shoulders, exposing her breasts. She caught Cesc staring, and realized the boy may never have seen a naked woman outside of a hospital before. Lola always thought it so limiting to only allow oneself a single gender of partners. Not when both offered such delights.

“Hope, do you want to help me undress Cesc?”

Hope looked up and nodded quickly. “Yes, mistress.”

Lola stepped back and let Hope begin to unbutton Cesc’s trousers. Lola knew Hope had not been with any men since coming to her, but the girl had admitted she’d had many previous lovers. And the deft way she removed the braces from Cesc, she knew it was true. Such a gorgeous little slut.

Which was why Lola never let Hope anywhere near Guti, though she knew her partner had little interested in women.

Cesc licked his lips as Hope lowered his trousers to the floor and helped him step out of them. As she sat up and strained against him, pressing up against his cock so that it nestled between her breasts. He moaned.

“Hope, baby, I think Cesc wants to fuck you,” Lola purred as she combed her hands through Hope’s mane.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Hope turned to Lola. “Only if it pleases you, mistress.”

“I’d thought to have him myself,” Lola pondered aloud. “And you certainly don’t deserve any cock.”

“Of course not, mistress.”

Cesc shirt fell to the floor and Hope sat back. Cesc’s cock stood at attention, as though straining for her.

Lola smiled, the sight of the two nubile young people so obviously in need of a good fuck making her nod in agreement. “Alright. Hope, get on the bed.”

Hope scampered up, pulling back the silk duvet before sliding onto the sheets and lay, splayed out.

Cesc gaped.

Lola whispered in Cesc's ear. "Gorgeous, isn't she?"  
Cesc nodded reverently. His cock ached as he wondered how good it would feel to bury it in her.  
Lola held Cesc on an invisible leash, not quite willing to let him go yet. She knew the inexperienced young men often had no idea how to please a woman and perhaps she should guide him through it. But then again, the idea of watching him animalistically rutting Hope made Lola squirm.  
"So fuck her." Lola released the leash and Cesc sprang forward.  
Cesc was on the bed in a moment, but he hovered between her legs, looking to Hope for her permission, first.  
"Please," Hope whined.  
Trembling slightly, Cesc leaned forward and taking his cock in hand guided it into Hope.  
Lola moved too sit on the bed near Hope's head, stroking her hair as Cesc shoved his cock into her. Hope gasped.  
With little finesse or rhythm Cesc began pumping in and out of her. Lola loved the way their bodies crashed together, jerking.  
True to Lola's prediction, Cesc only lasted a few minutes before he tensed up and let out a grunt of satisfaction before collapsing onto Hope.  
Hope let out a whine of disappointment. Lola's soft heart too pity on the girl, and gently pushing Cesc aside, she slipped her hand down between Hope's legs and brought her to a quick, sharp release.  
As the two caught their breath, Lola slipped out of her clothes, not even close to finished with either of them.

Chapter 65

 

Mesut grabbed his shopping list and headed for the back door.

“Don’t take forever today, I need to get the dessert started for the dinner tonight,” Andy called after him. Seriously, he thought as Mesut disappeared. It took that kid longer to go for a dozen eggs than it had taken England to win the war. At first he’d chalked it up to the fact that Mesut wasn’t familiar with London and it had taken him time to get around, but it was spring time and they’d been in London since winter.

Gerard was sitting at the table eating an apple, his back to Andy as he read the paper. “Surely you don’t believe he actually just goes for shopping.”

Andy glanced at Gerard as he scrubbed out the breakfast dishes. “Where else do you think he’s going?”

Gerard let out a snort. “He’s obviously got a lover. He comes back after four hours with a pint of milk, looking as flushed and disheveled.”

“Who could he be with? We all know he’s still caught up on Sami and when would he even have met someone new?”

“Some days, Andy, I wonder if there’s anything at all going on between your ears.”

A spatula went flying and caught Gerard on the back of the head just as Carles came in with the last of the breakfast dishes.

“Ow, FUCK.”

“Andrew!” Carles roared.

“He called me stupid!”

Gerard rubbed the back of his head. “Carles. You know Mesut isn’t just collecting groceries, right?”

Carles glared at them both. “Gerard, you need to clean the car. Andy, Lord Raul asked for some tea.”

Gerard tossed his apple core in the bin and strode out. Andy glared after him. 

Of course Carles knew Mesut was going out for more than groceries, but that Mesut got all of his work done and had a smile on his face, Carles didn’t ask questions.

 

* * * *

Sami opened the door. “This is the third time this week,” he admonished as Mesut pushed into his one room flat, groping Sami on the way.

“You know with the shortages, we can only buy a little bit at a time. If Andy has to make dinner for ten, it takes a couple of trips to get enough sugar for the desserts.” Mesut tugged at Sami’s shirt as he raised up on his toes to kiss him.

Of course, Sami’s protests were merely for show as he let the smaller man shove him down on to the bed. He too was intoxicated with every minute he could get with his beloved.

Things were blissful between them. Both of them happy in their work and with each other. The excitement of their illicit rendez vous still not gone stale in the passing months.

Clothes were strewn about the room as hot hands roved across pale skin. Sami rolled Mesut under him and latched his mouth on to Mesut’s left nipple. His favorite. Mesut let out a gasp and a whine of pleasure as Sami sucked on it, flicked his tongue across the nipple, and left the poor thing raw.

This was actually Sami’s favorite bit. Yes, he loved the fucking, but the way he could make Mesut melt into a puddle of moaning, begging without even touching his cock.

“Sami!” Mesut begged on cue. Sami always did this. Tortured him. Tortured him so...good.

“Yes, Mes?” Sami asked as he captured his mouth in a delicious kiss as his hand closed around Mesut’s cock. Mesut’s moan throbbed all the way through Sami’s body.

Too much, Sami thought as he rolled Mesut over. I love him too much, he thought as he slid inside, feeling Mesut’s pleasure more than his own. Knowing that Mesut’s need was as great, and that he could fulfill it, made Sami joyful.

They came together in a blissful completion, Sami buried inside his beloved, never ever wanting to let go.

 

* * * *

“Cesc, what are you doing?”

Cesc grinned as he walked into the drawing room with Cloe on his head. “Whatever do you mean?”

Cloe let out a cheerful bark as Cesc let her slide off and onto the couch. Sergio looked over the newspaper and rolled his eyes.

“We’re not going to the club tonight, so you can wipe that look off your face,” Sergio said.

“I know,” Cesc replied as he sat, pulling Cloe up into his lap. “We have a lovely dinner here at home with all of father’s friends.”

Sergio gave Cesc a look. “Honestly, are you drunk?”

“No,” Cesc said, but he grinned and rubbed his face into Cloe’s fur. No they weren’t going to the club tonight, but they would be tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d be with Lola and Hope.

He never talked about what went on between the three of them. Sergio and Guti kept his secrets, and his father never asked. 

Fernando appeared with a book in his hand. “What time do we have to be dressed for dinner?”

“Drinks at seven,” Sergio said with a warm smile. “Are you don’t with that yet?”

“No,” Fernando sighed. “It’s political theory. I don’t care about political theory.”

“Isn’t Fabio coming tonight?” Cesc asked as he set Cloe on the floor so she could greet Fernando. “I bet he could help you with that. When are your exams?”

“End of the month,” Fernando said as he crouched down to tickle Cloe’s chin. “I’m fine with the literature and even the mathematics, but the history and politics are going to kill me.”

“Cesc is right,” Sergio said. “Talk with Fabio. He’s got degrees in all that. I bet he can help.”

Carles came in with a tray. “Letters for you, Lord Cesc.”

“Yay,” Cesc sprang up and took them off the tray. One was from Iker and the other... “Danny!”

“A letter from Danny?” Sergio asked as he leaned over. 

But Cesc was already running for his room, wanting to read the letters in peace. Cloe ran after him.

* * * *

“Did you get all your shopping?” Sami asked as he kissed Mesut at the door.

“I did,” Mesut said. “Have you got Sunday afternoon free?”

“I will,” Sami promised.

Mesut scampered down the stairs and up the lane. As Sami watched him go, he did a double take. Standing in the shadows of a doorstep up the way, was a very, very familiar face from Liverpool.

“Well, hello Sami.” 

“Michael?”

“I’m so glad you remember me after all these years,” smiled the tall, dark haired man. “And here I’d thought you’d all forgotten about me.”

How could Sami ever forget?

 

Chapter 66

Cesc tore the letter open from Danny. He hadn’t heard from him since Christmas. He’d given up, well, he’d told himself he’d given up, but in his heart he’d known better. He’d known that as much fun as he had with Lola and Hope, Danny was the one for him.

Dear Cesc,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to you with the sad news of the passing of my father, the king, god rest his soul. The funeral was very dignified, and my eldest brother, Nicklas has been crowned as the new king. 

Cesc’s eyes grew wide. Danny had spoken of Nicklas. His brother was irreverent and a bit ill-behaved, but he loved his little brother Danny. He indulged his little brother with anything he wanted.

Cesc read on.

To this end, my brother has asked me to return to London and serve as Danish ambassador to King George.

Cesc let out a whoop of joy.

I am due to arrive on the eve of April 8. Please send word to the Danish embassy if it would be appropriate for me to call on you.

April 8th. Today was April 8th!

“Carles! CARLES!” Cesc ran into the corridor. “CARLES!!”

The butler came running. “Lord Cesc!” He was huffing and puffing. “What is the matter?”

“I need to send a letter to the Danish embassy immediately!”

If Carles was confused, it didn’t show on his well trained face. “Of course, sir. I can send Gerard at once. Is the letter ready?”

“Oh,” Cesc said as he was still clutching Danny’s letter. “No. Give me a minute.” Cesc ran back into his room and shuffled around his desk for pen and paper. After hastily scribbling a note which invited Danny to call at once, he ran back out to find Carles still waiting in the corridor.

“Do you need a reply, sir?”

“Uh, no, no, he might not be there yet. That’s fine,” Cesc said, fairly dancing. Cloe was scrambling around his feet, confused yet delighted at her master’s happiness.

Carles indulged in a slight smile. “Might we expect an extra for dinner tonight, sir?”

“I hope so,” Cesc beamed.

* * * *

“Michael,” Sami said again as he stared at the apparition. “I’d heard you perished in that factory fire.”

“In that I was accused of starting it, that’s probably for the best, isn’t it?” Michael’s brown eyes twinkled. “Cup of tea for your long lost foreman?”

“Uh, sure,” Sami said as he opened the door to his flat and allowed Michael in. The bed was still a mess from the lovemaking, but Sami’s mind was still buzzing at who was on his doorstep.

“So, you’re driving a taxi in London and seeing someone on the sly,” Michael threw out. “Is that someone else’s husband or is there someone else living here?”

“Neither,” Sami said a bit indignantly. “He’s a maid at the Bernabeu house.”

“Oh, sneaking out of work for an afternoon delight, nice.” Michael sat at Sami’s table, setting his hat down. “Is that the same...?”

“Yes. Yes he is,” Sami said. “We’re back together now and we’re very, very happy.”

“Oh,” Michael said, his eyes dancing with pent up laughter. “You don’t need to tell me. I know we were only lovers because he left you.”

“What do you want, Michael?” Sami asked as he stood at the stove, glaring down at the kettle.

“Now, Sami,” Michael said. “Maybe I just came by to say hello.”

“Maybe you never just stop by,” Sami said.

“Fine,” Michael sighed. “I’ve been in touch with some of our old friends from Liverpool. Lukas and Mario. They’re working at a garment factory here in London and looking to...organize some workers. I thought you might want in.”

Sami turned to him. “You mean stir up more trouble.”

“The workers need to fight for their rights,” Michael said. “And people are willing to compensate men like us for helping organize them.”

“You mean bully them into causing trouble.”

“You make it sound so sorted.”

“I was nearly beaten to death,” Sami reminded him bitingly. “I have a good job and the man I love. I don’t need any of this any more.”

“Oh Sami. Don’t you know you’re never really out?”

* * * *

Dinner was a cheerful affair, well, if you weren’t Cesc. Everyone was at dinner. Raul, Guti, Sergio, Cesc, Fernando, Fabio, Raul Meireles, and several other friends of Raul. Cesc drank his wine but barely tasted his food.

It was eleven. Danny wasn’t coming.

As they retired to the drawing room for after dinner drinks, Carles appeared.

“Pardon me, Lord Bernabeu, but you have a visitor.”

“At this hour?” Raul asked, looking around the assembly. “But everyone I know is here!”

“Everyone you like,” Guti amended.

Raul shot him a look. “Don’t leave us in suspense, Carles, who is it?”

Carles stood back as a familiar figure entered the room, tall, dark, and wearing a rather mischievous smile. “Prince Daniel of Denmark, your lordship.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Danny said.

Cesc let out a squeak and ran to him in an undignified rush. “Danny!”

“Cesc!” Danny caught him up and hugged him tightly.

Raul and Guti shared an amused look, and Sergio called out. “Easy there, Cescito. This is polite company.”

Cesc dropped back to the floor, but clutched Danny’s hand. “Prince Daniel is going to be working in London as the new ambassador from Denmark!”

“Your father saw reason?” Raul asked.

“Sadly,” Daniel said, “he has passed. However the new king feels that developing closer relationships with England can be a benefit to both countries.”

Raul nodded, approvingly. He’d always liked the Danish prince, and even so the joy on Cesc’s face was all he needed. “Very well. I suppose we can excuse you and Cesc for the evening if you’d like to reacquaint yourselves.”

“Father!” Sergio exclaimed, scandalized.

Raul gave him a withering look. “You live under my roof as a married couple with my former maid, Sergio. Maybe one should not question my parenting?”

Sergio chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Cesc dragged Danny out of the room and up the stairs.

“This really isn’t proper,” Danny protested half heartedly as Cesc pulled him into his room. Cloe, who’d been asleep on the bed, lifted her head and gave an inquisitive bark.

Cesc scooped her up and dropped her outside the door. “I don’t care about proper. Danny, never go again. I need you. Please promise me.”

“Nicklas says I may marry whoever I like,” Danny says. “Shall I propose now or wait until I fuck you all night long.”

“It might be more romantic if we’re not so horny, yes,” Cesc agreed as he tore at Danny’s clothes.

Danny chuckled, “Then I can never proposed, because I will never not be horny for you.”

“Oh Danny,” Cesc sighed and delved in for a deep kiss. “Danny, fuck me, please.”

“How about we make sweet love,” Danny teased even as his fingers wiggled in between the cheeks of Cesc’s ass, aching to plunder him.

Cesc moaned. “You can do anything to me you like.”

Danny laid Cesc on the bed, for the first time truly allowing himself to give over to the young man. Touch everything with no reservation. Work him open and drive his cock into him deeply, possess him, claim him.

And when Cesc cried out, sobbing from the intensity of his orgasm Danny held him tight, knowing that finally there was nothing to stand in their way.

* * * *

When Lola found her, Hope lay curled up on Lola’s bed, crying. 

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Lola asked as she came to the side of the bed, sitting on the edge and stroking the young woman’s hair. In truth, Hope never cried, not that Lola saw. She was rarely homesick; she was so happy to be out from the watchful eye of her father.

Hope opened her blue-green eyes, rimmed red. “I’m...so...STUPID.”

“No you’re not,” Lola assured her as she massaged her scalp. “Tell Lola what the problem is.”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Lola’s hand stilled. “You think?”

“I’m like a month late...oh, I know I’m pregnant,” Hope sobbed. 

Lola closed her eyes. They’d been so careless. “You’ve not been with anyone but Cesc, have you?”

“No,” Hope wailed.

Lola laid down on the bed and collected Hope into her arms. “We’ll fix this, baby, I promise.” She closed her eyes.

Guti was going to kill both of them.

 

Chapter 67

Cristiano lay snuggled up against Iker, drifting in and out of sleep, his reality better than his dreams.

“Cris?”

“Mmm?”

“Cris, it’s hot and you’re sweating on me.”

Cris opened his eyes and saw Iker looked down at him, amused. 

“Are you saying because it’s over 30 degrees you don’t want my hot body pressed against you?”

“Yes,” Iker said. “That is what I am saying.”

“All the romance is gone,” Cris sighed dramatically and rolled onto his back. 

“It might be,” Iker agreed as he set his book down and leaned over to kiss Cris.

“Mmm,” Cris sighed against his lips. “We need to be in London where it’s cold and I can snuggle you whenever I want.”

Iker opened his eyes. “Really?”

Cris sighed. Iker had been dropping not so subtle hints for several weeks now about maybe going back to London, at least to visit. Iker was desperate to visit his brothers and see his little nephew, Jon. “How about we agree to visit for two weeks and see how it goes?”

Iker threw his arms around Cris. “Thank you!”

“We’re not staying with your father!” Cris reminded him.

“I know,” Iker said. While he was hurt by his father’s actions, it had, really, all turned out for the best. But he knew what Cris had suffered from his father’s lies was far, far worse, and those words could not be ignored.

“Write Cesc,” Cris said. “I’ll see about booking us a room.”

Iker released him and ran to get paper and pen. Home.

* * * *

Silva fretted as he paced the room. He should have consulted Villa. His partner was sure to be mad.

But when he’d looked into the sad eyes of the woman, begging for help, he knew he could not refuse her.

He’d known Kiki when he lived on the streets. She was a prostitute like himself, and he knew she only kept doing it to support her son. But then her son, Jordi had run off to Valencia when he was eighteen, and gotten himself into some trouble. He was back in Barcelona, on the run from the police, and Kiki had asked Silva to look after him.

There was a knock at the back door, and Silva opened it quickly. Kiki stood there, looking worried, and Jordi looked more annoyed than anything.

“Come in,” Silva motioned them into the house.

“Thank you so much, Silva,” Kiki said, throwing her arms around him. 

“Sure,” Silva said as he hugged her back. Jordi dropped his bag on a kitchen chair and looked sullen.

“Where am I going to sleep?”

“You will sleep where Mr. Silva tells you!” Kiki said, using a tone only a mother could. “You got yourself into this mess and you will be grateful he is helping you.”

“If he really wanted to help, he’d give me the money to pay off the police!” Jordi snapped.

Kiki slapped him. “Silva owes us nothing! You will scrub his floors and be thankful!”

Jordi closed his mouth, but still glared.

“I’m sorry, Silva,” Kiki said as tears sprang to her eyes. “I don’t know why he’s like this.”

“It’s fine,” Silva assured her with a kiss on the cheek. “Maybe some day he will be grateful for having you to look after him.

The kitchen door opened and Villa walked in. He looked startled to see the people there. “Silva?”

“Villa!” Silva started. “I...I thought you were taking a walk!”

“I just got back. Silva? Who are these people?”

Silva stuttered. “Th-this is Kiki. I’ve told you about her. And this is her son, Jordi. We...we needed a new maid. Remember?”

Silva’s eyes were desperate, and Villa frowned. They did not need a new maid. “Silva, can I speak with you for a minute?”

“Sure,” Silva said miserably. “Excuse us.”

He followed Villa down the corridor to Villa’s study. “You want to explain yourself?”

“Villa! Kiki’s son is in trouble. Remember how I told you she helped me? I owe her this, please can he stay?”

“What kind of trouble?” Villa asked with a frown.

Silva sighed. “He’s wanted for theft in Valencia.”

“Silva!” Villa admonished. “We can’t keep him here! You know how the police are about searching homes. If they find him here we’ll all go to jail!”

“I know,” Silva fretted. “But I owe her.”

An idea occurred to Villa. “Does he speak any English?”

* * * *

Cris glanced over at the valet Villa had provided them with for their journey. The kid had attitude to spare and couldn’t press a pair of trousers to save his life. He was currently asleep on the train, snoring softly.

“Who did Villa say this kid was?” he asked Iker in a low voice.

“A cousin of Silva’s,” Iker said. “Mom wanted him to get a change of scene and see some more of the world.”

“He doesn’t speak much English,” Cris pointed out, conveniently ignoring the fact that he’d relied on Iker most of the time they were in Spain to translate for him. Never mind the Catalan that most people in Barcelona spoke.

“I can speak to him,” Iker shrugged, his mother having been a real stickler about him learning languages. “And he can learn.”

Cris frowned again.

“You,” Iker kissed his cheek, “are still worried about seeing my family.”

“They think you were forced to marry me!”

“Cesc and Sergio don’t think that,” Iker assured him. “And father and Xabi will see reason.”

“I hope so,” Cris sighed.

* * * *

“Iker is coming home!” Cesc danced into the lounge. “He should be here by the weekend! I have to get the weekend off. I bet I can switch shifts!”

Raul looked up from his paper. “Iker is coming home? When was this decided?”

Cesc came to a halt. “He...wrote me...”

“I thought we had agreed Iker would stay away at least a year,” Raul stood. “May I see the letter?”

Cesc stuffed it in his pocket. Raul had never asked to see Iker’s letters before. “Father. Iker is an adult. He can come home if he wants.”

Raul’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know?”

“Iker will tell you everything when he gets here,” Cesc said firmly. “I’m going to have dinner with Danny tonight.”

Raul said no more, but as soon as Cesc departed, he was searching his room for Iker’s letters. Cesc was far too sentimental not to have them tucked away somewhere.

* * * *

Guti started to swear and Hope cringed, sinking back against the sofa in his office. Lola stood between them, ready to grab Guti if he tried to smack or grab her. 

“One time. You said Cesc was with Hope one time. Months ago. I told you. Told you,” he roared. “Keep her away from him.”

“I know,” Lola said as she braced herself for Guti’s wrath. He wasn’t generally a violent man, but Lola was well aware of how badly she’d fucked up. “But he came back and asked for her.”

“You said he was bringing his own lover,” Guti said darkly. “You lied to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Lola said earnestly. “But he enjoyed being with her.”

“You’re sure it’s his,” Guti asked with a look at Hope.

“Yes,” Hope said through her tears. “There hasn’t been anyone else.”

“How can I even trust that you’re not lying to me now!” Guti slammed his fist into the desk.

“I’m not lying!” Hope shot back.

“You’re out of luck if you thought you were trapping him into marrying you,” Guti said cruelly. “He’s engaged to a Danish prince.”

Hope glared at Guti and started to rise. Lola pushed her back down. “No. You do not get to be indignant.”

“He...”

“Hope!” Lola silenced her. 

Guti let out a breath. “I assume you have a plan?”

“I do. But you’re not going to like it.”

 

 

Chapter 68

Iker stood on his father's doorstep, his hand threaded through Cristiano's.

"Whatever happens, you have me," Cristiano told him, kissing his temple.

Iker nodded as the door opened and Carles's face appeared.

"Lord Iker!" the butler said with uncharacteristic happiness. "And Lord Cristiano! We weren't expecting you!"

"I'm sorry Carles, is it a bad time? Is my father in?"

"It's never a bad time, sir," Carles say happily as he stepped back. "Do come in. Juan! Fetch his lordship."

Juan was beaming as well and scampered up the stairs to find Lord Bernabeu.

Carles showed them in to the sitting room. "You must be tired from your journey. Do you have trunks...?"

"We're staying at a hotel right now," Iker said and could see this offended his father's butler. "I'm sorry."

"It is your business, sir," Carles said, biting his tongue not to add, but when the lord's own son feels unwelcome in his home, something is very wrong.

"Iker! And Cristiano," Raul appeared, unable to hide his surprise.

"Father," Iker said, not moving to kiss his father on the cheek.

"I was not expecting you," Raul said, looking them both over and taking note that their hands were clasped together. "Is everything alright?"

"We're fine." Iker had no idea where to even begin. He glanced at Carles.

Raul read his apprehension. "Carles, some tea?"

"Of course my lord."

"Please, sit," Raul said. 

"Father, we've come home to tell you that we're married," Iker spit out.

Raul was unable to hide the shock on his face. "You are?"

"Yes," Iker said as he clutched at Cristiano's hand. "And we're very happy."

"I see," Raul said. So, apparently Cristiano had found out Iker was still alive and found where he was, somehow managing to convince him to still marry him. Didn't Cristiano realize that Iker was heir to nothing anything Xabi didn’t allow him any more? “When was this?”

“February,” Iker said. “In Venice.”

“I see,” Raul said again. He looked at Cristiano. “May I speak with my son on his own, please?”

Iker squeezed Cristiano’s hand. “He can hear anything you have to say.”

“Fine, but I still need to speak with Iker,” Raul said.

“I’m not leaving if he wants me here,” Cristiano said. “The last time you talked to him on your own you convinced him that I didn’t love him.”

Raul leveled his gaze at Cristiano. “I was doing what I thought was best for my son.”

“Telling me he was dead? How was that best for your son!” Cristiano snapped.

“Cris!” Iker begged. “Please. We....we need to work this out.”

“Don’t tell me how to love my children,” Raul said dangerously. “Iker thought you loved him and you were threatening to leave if Xabi didn’t give you the inheritance. If you really loved Iker, you would have stayed.”

Iker looked at Cristiano. “You did what?”

“That wasn’t me!” Cristiano said. “It was my father! I never cared about the money, even from the start I didn’t even want the money! I only agreed to marry you because I thought it was right to give it all back to you and your family!”

“You...” tears were threatening Iker’s eyes.

“Oh, you know we didn’t love each other then,” Cristiano begged. “We were doing what was best. But you know I came to love you. You know I do love you. More than anything!”

Iker nodded. “I know. I know that.”

Cristiano turned to Raul. “That was all my father, that nonsense about the inheritance. Yes, it made it difficult on me to have to change my way of thinking again, planning for our future, but now Iker and I get to plan our future together. No one gets to decide but he and I. And do you know what? I’m so thankful it all worked out this way, because I know we married each other for love and no other reason.”

Raul watched this exchange with fascination. It was clear to him now that Cristiano were in love. Iker was happy.

“You have my blessing,” Raul said simply.

Iker smile grew. “Really?”

“Yes,” Raul said. “Though I am not going to apologize for doing what I thought was best for Iker at the time, I can see now that you are happy, and that is all I need to know.”

Cristiano gazed at Raul for a moment. Nearly ruined your lives, but oh well?

Iker saw the doubt in his eyes and squeezed his hand again. Please. Please make nice.

Cristiano read the look in his eyes and sighed. He wasn’t happy that Raul was getting off so easy, but he was never going to be able to say no to that look.

“Thank you.”

“Oh,” Iker said as he did begin to cry. He rushed to embrace his father.

Raul held him tight. Glancing over his shoulder at Cristiano, their eyes locked. 

The message was clear. Hurt Iker, and face my wrath.

* * * *

Lola was right; Guti was not happy about her plan. It required lying to Raul among other things. And if he knew the whole story, he would have been even less pleased.

But Lola got his permission to take Hope to live at Bernabeu, which was empty, hiring her a nurse/maid to look after her during her pregnancy. The family was staying in London until at least fall after Sergio and Fernando relocated to Oxford and Cesc finished his training. Guti was told that the baby would be given away when it was born and Hope sent home to her father in America, and Lola stayed with her, telling they young woman that when her baby was born that Lola would claim it, but that Hope would be allowed to be a part of the child's life. Lola was just hoping the child would not have it's father's dark curls and tell-tale mischievous little smile.

"I hope it's a girl," Hope said one evening as they lay in front of the fire, the May weather having gone suddenly cold. She ran her hand across her swelling belly, already in love with the little life inside of her.

"Me too," Lola said as she kissed her temple. Lola had never had children of her own, and the thought of helping Hope raise this little one made her happy, no matter how much of a fit Guti was going to throw. She was hoping his soft heart would fall for the child when he met it. Boys never really seemed to get how precious children were until they were in their arms.

"Do you really think we're going to be allowed to keep her?" Hope asked as she buried her face in Lola's chest.

"As long as there is a breath in my body, no one is taking that child from you."

The maid stepped in with a tray of tea. “Will you be needing anything else this evening, Ma’am?”

“No, Alex, thank you,” Lola said with a smile. The maid they’d found was wonderfully sweet and pretty to look at.

“Good night Ma’am,” Alex said as her gaze lingered a moment on Hope, and then she scurried away.

* * * *

Fernando passed his exams with full honors. In fact, the examiner called upon them personally to deliver the results, astounded that Fernando had never had formal schooling.

"He taught himself," Sergio said, heart full of pride. "As a matter of fact, I'm counting on him to help tutor me!"

"Have you decided what you will study?" asked the examiner, whose name was Andre Villas-Boas.

"I think history," Fernando said. "Though I think accountancy as well. I love history, but it's just not practical, is it?"

"Well," Andre said, "don't tell that to our history lecturers, but no, it's not, unless you intend to teach or write."

"Fernando is too practical," Sergio said. "He needs sums and figures to rely on."

Fernando shrugged. "I think I've spent too much time measuring my day by a clean parlor and crisp sheets to justify sitting and reading books as a career."

"If it's accountancy, you'll have me for some lectures," Andre said. "I might even see if I can arrange to be your tutor."

Carles arrived with the tea tray. There was a young man behind him that neither Sergio nor Fernando knew. He was precariously carrying a tray of cups, and Fernando could just see them toppling over.

“Thank you, Carles,” Sergio said as he set the tray down to serve.

“You’re welcome, sir,” Carles said. “This is our new maid. His name is Jordi. He came with Lord Iker from Barcelona.”

Jordi looked annoyed. Fernando wondered what the kid’s problem was. Maybe he didn’t want to come to London from his home.

“Carles, this is Andre,” Sergio said. “He’s from Oxford and he’s just come to tell us how wonderfully Fernando did on his exams.”

Carles nodded at him. “We all think very highly of Mr. Torres.”

Fernando shook his head as Carles poured the tea. Ever since Fernando had stopped working at the house, Carles refused to call him by his given name any more. As if he wasn’t the same person!

After tea, Andre said his farewells and Fernando moved closer to Sergio on the couch. “He seems nice.”

“He did,” Sergio said, but then gave Fernando a look. “He wants in your pants.”

“What? No!” Fernando said. “He’s a teacher!”

“He’s like Xabi’s age!” Sergio said. 

“And I’m engaged to YOU. Soon to be married,” Fernando kissed him.

Sergio kissed him back. No, he wasn’t worried about Fernando’s love. But other men needed to keep away. Soon they would be married, and nothing would keep them apart.

* * * *

“I have a five day holiday next week,” Cesc said as he walked into Danny’s office at the Danish Embassy.

“You do? Even with the days you wanted for the wedding?” Danny asked as he tipped his head up to get his kiss from Cesc.

“I was sat with my supervisor, looking at the days I needed and he noticed I have many more coming to me than I thought. I guess you’re right. I do work too hard.”

“I told you,” Danny said as he slipped an arm around Cesc. “So. What days are these so I can some very important meetings that can’t be interrupted?”

“Sunday to Thursday,” Cesc said. “I was thinking we could get the train out to Bernabeu and spend a few days on our own.”

“You to myself?” Danny said. “Perfect.”

Cesc kissed him again. “Now I’ve wasted my entire lunch break coming to see you, but I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Missing you already,” Danny said with a smile as Cesc rushed out.

* * * *

Xabi sat in the park on a sunny May day and watch Jon run around the green, chasing Cesc’s dog and throwing himself about with only the abandon a toddler could. Xabi was certain his nurse would glare at the state of his trousers, but this was why Xabi brought Jon to the park on his own and didn’t send him with the nurse. She was a good caregiver, but she never let the little boy have enough fun.

And perhaps it was because Steven walked the path opposite the patch of green Xabi sat on every day about this time on his way home from work.

He knew that Steven was married with daughters, and Xabi even knew his wife was a good wife and mother. But it didn’t stop Xabi from dreaming of the day Steven would come through the park, stop in front of Xabi and Jon, collect up the little boy as he kissed Jon on the cheek and the three of them walked home together.

Cloe ran to him with a stick. Jon didn’t quite have the concept of the game of fetch, so the stick was dropped at Xabi’s feet and he tossed it.

Cloe took off after it with Jon giving chase and nearly tripped up...

Steven.

“Sorry!” Jon yelled, a word he’d learned at a young age.

“Careful there, young man. Where’s your nanny?”

Xabi stood as Cloe, oblivious to the exchange came hurtling back toward him. Steven followed the dog with his eyes.

“Xabi.”

Jon ran to attach himself to Xabi’s leg. He looked up at Steven, and then his father.

“Hello,” Xabi managed.

“Xabi...I’d heard...I’d heard someone say you’d not died after all, but I didn’t...I...” he words drifted away as he stared. 

“I’ve been back in England for a few months. “I was living in America.”

Steven nodded. “I got married.”

“I heard.”

The stared at each other, so much to say, but nothing to be said.

“Daddy. Hun-ry!” Jon pleaded.

Steven looked down at the boy. “Is this your son?”

“Yes,” Steven said as he scooped up Jon. “His name is Jon.”

“He’s beautiful,” Steven said.

“Thank you.”

There was another long pause.

“I best get home,” Steven gestured.

“I come to the park here...every day,” Xabi said.

“Then tomorrow I’ll leave work a little earlier.”

 

 

 

Chapter 69

“Okay, the wedding is in four weeks,” Raul said as he looked over the guest list. “Too many things.”

Guti stood over him, threading his fingers through Raul’s hair. “What else is there to do? Andy has the food sorted, Carles assures us there’s room for the guests at Bernabeu.”

“I just want to be sure it’s perfect,” Raul said as he leaned into him. This may be the only wedding he got to plan with Iker already married and Cesc surely to have some elaborate gathering at the Danish embassy at least, if not back in Denmark. At least Iker and Cristiano were staying in London for the time being and staying with them at Bernabeu for the wedding.

“It will be. When are we leaving for Bernabeu?” Guti needed to send a letter to Lola, reminding her that she and her foundling needed to vacate for a few weeks.

“Not for another two weeks,” Raul said. “But I think I may send some of the staff ahead. When Cesc gets back, he’s going to let me know how much airing out the place will need.”

“Cesc?” Guti froze.

“Yes, he and Danny headed down this morning,” Raul said. “They wanted a few days out of the city, the poor lads, they’ve not had a moment to themselves...”

Raul rattled on about Cesc, but Guti’s hand had gone still. If they’d left on the morning train, they might be at Bernabeu already.

“Guti? Guti, love, what’s wrong?”

* * * *

"You can't come any more," Sami said as he stared at the ground in front of Mesut's feet. They were in an alleyway behind the family house.

"What, why?" Mesut said. "Sami, why? I need to see you. Sami?"

His begging cut through Sami like a knife, but there was nothing for it. Michael had threatened to tell the family that Mesut was sneaking out, which really, wasn't such a big deal, but he also threatened to out Sami as a draft dodger in hiding. If it was shown that Mesut helped Sami to hide, Mesut would be in trouble, too.

"Sami, what's wrong." Mesut tugged on his shirt, but Sami wouldn't look at him.

"I just don't want to see you," Sami said, his words choked with a sob. He had to make Mesut believe or he wouldn't leave him alone. Sami was doing what Michael wanted, but he still didn't trust the man. One little thing could set him off. "I don't love you any more."

"Sami! No! You don't mean that! SAMI!"

But Sami pushed him away. "Just go, Mesut. Go."

"No," Mesut sobbed. "You don't mean this, what's wrong. Sami!"

But Sami ran from him, heart wrenched from his chest as Mesut's sobs echoed down the alleyway.

* * * *

Lola combed Hope's hair in the bright sunlight of the Sunday afternoon. Spring was here at last and they sat in the garden. Alex was sat at Hope's feet, reading aloud. When Lola had learned that Alex couldn't read, she'd insisted on teaching her. She was sounding out the words to a storybook.

"And they all lived..hap..happy'ly..."

"Happily," Lola corrected. "Happily ever after."

Alex smiled. "I like that story."

"Happy endings are a fairy tale," Hope sighed. 

"Hush," Lola said, "we're very happy here."

Hope couldn't disagree, but she knew their happiness was precarious at best. Happy, yes, but never ever after.

"We have to leave the house for a few weeks when the family returns for Lord Sergio's wedding," Lola said to distract them. "Where would you like to go?"

"Should we go back to London?" Hope asked. "Is that safe?"

"Not London," Lola said. "The continent maybe. Where would you like to go, Hope?"

Hope frowned. She'd been meant to go on a tour of Europe at some point, but everything had changed course when her father had left her in London, expecting her to find a husband, and instead leaving her with Lola who was, well, a bad influence, to say the least. "I'd like to see Greece. The islands? And the ruins?"

"Greece is beautiful," Lola approved. She could already picture the three of them, tanned and lazy.

"And me?" Alex asked hopefully.

"Of course," Lola said, reaching down to caress her face. "We need our maid, don't we."

Alex grinned. "I should start supper."

"Go," Lola said and watched Alex scamper off to the house. Maybe they would go abroad and never come back. Lola could sell her interest in the club. Find a place for the three, soon to be four, of them to live. 

Happily ever after.

* * * *

Sami scrubbed at his eyes he knew to be red and entered the pub. He was meeting with Ballack and the others for a planning meeting. Lukas and Philip had been working at a textile mill on the South Bank, and the workers were getting fed up with the pay and conditions.

"You look like you could use some sleep," Philip said as Sami joined them at the table in the back.

"Long shifts," Sami said as he slouched down in the chair.

"Lukas, get us another round," Michael said as he tossed a coin at the the blond man. "Are you with us?"

The threat was implied in Michael's statement, and the urge to punch him nearly overwhelmed Sami. I gave him up because of you and now you're questioning my loyalty to you? "I'm with you."

"Good," Michael said with a cheerful laugh. "Now, Philip, you have a meeting set with the mill owner for tomorrow?"

"Yes, at noon," Philip said. "I actually think he's going to be reasonable when it comes to some of the demands we have."

"Jogi Low, reasonable?" Michael scoffed.

"I think he's seen what's happened at the other mills, and he realizes if he gives into some of the demands, he can avoid a costly strike."

Sami liked the sound of this. No strike meant he didn't have to get involved. Michael had wanted him to get a job at the mill, to help be an inside instigator, but Sami had a contract with the company he was leasing his cab from, and couldn't take a position, thankfully. This just meant that Michael wanted him available as some added muscle should things get violent. Or, more likely, to start the violence.

But Michael was shaking his head as Lukas returned with four pint mugs. "No, we can't just give in. He's not going to give us everything we want and we have to be prepared to fight. We've got these mill owners scared, and we can't just sit back and give in."

"The men are prepared to fight," Lukas agreed. "They saw what the mill workers in Liverpool were able to get after those strikes."

"But if we don't need to," Philip pressed, "I mean, Jogi's not a bad boss, all told."

"He's got you snowed," Michael mocked him. "He knows he can give you a good blow job and you'll give up."

"He did not," Philip blushed furiously. "I never..!"

Lukas was laughing out loud. "You know he wants to! Look at him!"

Even Sami had to crack a smile Philip had gone pink up to the tips of his ears.

In the end, Michael agreed to let Philip conduct his meeting with Low tomorrow and wait for the results before taking any further steps. But when Michael pulled Sami aside later in the evening, telling him to be at the mill just before noon, Sami realized that Michael was hoping the meeting would go badly.

* * * *

Jordi was hiding in one of the spare bedrooms, a dusting cloth on the floor next to him, Spanish magazine in his lap, munching on an apple. Silva had send him a packet full of his favorites, but Carles had yelled at him when he'd lingered over them at lunch. 

Carles worked them like they were dogs. Seriously. He dusted the bedrooms yesterday. How much dust accumulated in a day?

The bedroom door opened.

"Jordi?"

Fuck, it was Xavi. Jordi tried to scrunch up, but Xavi had already seen his legs around the edge of the bed.

"Jordi!" Xavi said crossly. "Are you done dusting?"

"Yes!" Jordi snapped. Like you could even tell if he hadn't.

"Then you need to help me polish the silver in the dining hall."

Jordi frowned, not understanding the order. 

Xavi sighed. The kid insisted he knew English just fine, but except for the basics, he often seemed to get by mimicking the actions of others. He was actually pretty smart.

"Come with me," he said. 

Jordi scrambled to his feet, stuffing his magazine into his pocket. Xavi had never seen him without one tucked away somewhere on his person. "What are you reading?" He pointed to the magazine.

Jordi gave him a distrustful look. "Football."

"Ah," Xavi nodded. "I like football. Do you play?"

"Play?"

"Football..." Xavi tried to explain. "You? Do Football?" He mimed kicking a ball.

"Oh, yes," Jordi nodded. "Good."

"You are good, huh?" Xavi asked with a laugh. "Maybe some time I can take you to a game. Have you heard of Chelsea?"

"Chelsea?" Jordi perked up. He knew the name of the London Club. He had read about it in one of his magazine. "We go, Chelsea?"

"Sure," Xavi nodded. "I'll check in the newspaper to see if there is a Sunday match some time. Or maybe Carles will let us go on a Saturday. If we get our work done."

"I work," Jordi agreed quickly. He had been to see Barcelona many times, usually sneaking in an unguarded gate or under a fence at the Camp de la Industria. He missed it terribly. And he knew football was big in London. He would love to see a match.

Carles had never seen the silver shine so brightly since Lady Mamen had bought it over a decade ago.

* * * *

"Ah, Bernabeu," Cesc sighed as they drove up to the house. Cesc had called ahead and arranged a car to take them out to the house as they would be living with only one servant to look after them. Bojan was at the wheel.

"I've missed it," Bojan said. "London just isn't the same."

"I wish we could live here," Danny said as he leaned into to Cesc. "Life was so much easier when we were here."

"I suppose your brother is being kind enough letting you be in London," Cesc said. "And until I finish my studies, I have to be in the city as well."

"Never mind, as long as we're together," Danny said.

Bojan pretend not to hear their sweet words, though they cut through him. He knew Cesc loved Danny. He knew that it was silly to think that Bojan had any kind of chance with someone like Cesc. He wasn't gorgeous and smart like Fernando that might actually catch the eye of a nobleman. And while he did think that Cesc genuinely saw him as more than a servant, at best he was a friend.

As the drove up, Cesc saw there was someone in the gardens.

"Who's that?" Cesc asked as he watched the two figures grow larger, and realized it was two women.

"Is that Lola?" Bojan said.

"And Hope!" Cesc said happily. "Danny, you've not met Hope!"

"Hope as in..." Danny said with a grin.

"Yes, Hope," Cesc said, as he'd been honest with Danny about his activities in Danny's absence. Danny had hardly been abstinent, either.

"I do need to meet her."

"But why are they here? Guti said they'd gone to America?" Cesc frowned. 

* * * *

"Who is that?" Hope asked as the car approached.

"I don't know, but wrap this blanket around your shoulders and get in the house. I'll way-lay them."

Hope covered her belly and walked away quickly as Lola headed toward the car. As it pulled to a stop in front of the house, she realized it was Cesc, Danny, and Bojan. What the hell were they doing here and why hadn't Guti warned her?

"Lola!" Cesc said as he leapt from the car and hugged her. "What a surprise!"

No kidding.

"Cesc and Danny," Lola said with a trained smile. "How are you both, and Bojan my dear." She kissed the boy on the cheek and he flushed with pleasure.

"Did I see Hope?" Cesc asked.

"You did," Lola said, seeing no purpose in a lie. "She had bare feet and didn't want to be seen half dressed in front of a prince."

"Scandalous," Danny said with a grin. 

"Guti said you were in America," Cesc said.

"We meant to," Lola said. "But we were traveling to Liverpool to catch the boat and Hope fell ill. We only meant to stay here a few days, a week at most, but Hope loved the grounds and you know she's not looking forward to going back to America," Lola said as she slid her arm into Cesc's.

"Does she have to go?" Cesc asked sadly.

"She does," Lola said. "And please don't take it personally if she doesn't want to see you while you're here. It will be even harder for her when we do have to go, which I have probably let her put off too long as it is."

"Oh," Cesc said. "No, of course."

"You're such a dear," Lola said and kissed his cheek. Problem solved.

 

Chapter 70

“Mesut, are you okay?” Xavi asked as Mesut sat at the kitchen table, staring into his tea.

Mesut just shrugged. 

“You...how is said? Break out with girl?” Jordi asked as he looked up from his magazine.

“Break up,” Xavi corrected without thinking. “Oh, Mes, not again.”

“What?” Mesut asked, startled. 

“Sami?” Xavi prompted.

“What? No, no! Sami is in jail, remember?”

Xavi put his hand over Mesut’s. “Mes, we know. We know where he is. We know you’ve been seeing him.”

Mesut’s eyes filled with tears. “He broke up with me and I don’t even know why. It was so good. We were happy. Not like before.”

Jordi watched Mesut cry, not understanding the situation, but reading the pain very clearly. Jordi knew that pain. It was pain that never quite healed.

“Something is wrong,” Mesut said. “He...he just wouldn’t...Xavi. I know. I know him and he’s scared of something. I want to help him, but he’s pushing me away.”

“What could he be scared of?” Xavi asked. “Have the police found him?”

“I don’t know,” Mesut said. “But why won’t he let me help him?”

“I don’t know,” Xavi said as he squeezed his hand again. “I don’t know.”

* * * *

“So I think you’ll agree that’s fair,” Jogi said as he showed the figures to Philip, leaning over his shoulder to point at the ledger book.

“Yes, yes of course,” Philip said even as he closed his eyes. He was trying to focus on the the figures. What costs the mill had and how much they really could afford to pay the workers. But his boss coming on to him, that much was clear, and Philip knew he should resist.

“So you won’t need to strike if I agree to these wage increases?” Jogi breathed in Philip’s ear.

“I’ll have to ask the workers,” Philip said.

“Of course,” Jogi purred. “But you’ll come back and tell me what they say? Perhaps at my place? Say nine o’clock.”

“Sure,” Philip agreed. He quickly collected up the draft of the agreement. It was actually more than fair to the workers. Philip just wondered how much of the offer was to help stave off a costly strike, and how much of it was Philip’s willingness to be seduced?

* * * *

“Ball, Tee-Phen!” Jon said happily as he rolled the ball back to his new best friend.

“Good boy,” Steven praised as he ruffled the boy’s hair. He gently kicked the ball away and Jon went running after it.

Xabi beamed at the pair, his heart warmed to see his son as entranced with Steven as he was. Every day that week, Steven had arrived, earlier each day, with treats for the boy. Today it was a leather football that Jon adored.

The affair had been wholly innocent thus far. Chatting in the park while the boy played and the dog chased squirrels. However, it was clear both of them desired more.

“My wife is going to Liverpool next week with the girls,” Steven mentioned. “I have to stay in town for work.”

Xabi looked at Steven. Was this what he wanted? An affair with a married man?

“I was thinking perhaps you could come to dinner? On Tuesday?” Steven’s eyes were pleading. No. It wasn’t what either of them really wanted, but it was all they could have right now.

“Yes,” Xabi heard himself agreeing. “Yes I will.”

Steven smiled. “It’s not really...”

“Shh,” Xabi said as Jon tripped over the ball and fell down laughing. “Let’s just be for right now.”

Steven nodded. “I missed you so much, you can’t even know.”

“I know,” Xabi said. “I know.”

* * * *

Bojan delivered tea to Danny and Lola, flitting around apprehensively. “Lord Cesc said he would join you shortly, but to go on with out him.”

Danny, too well trained from his childhood in the palace, did not betray his annoyance on his face, but he was not happy. His and Cesc’s romantic getaway had been usurped by Cesc’s former lovers. And he might have been able to deal with it if it was just one person, but that it was two gorgeous women, one of whom he wasn’t sure he trusted out of his sight, it wasn’t making for a very relaxing holiday.

To be perfectly fair, Lola had stayed out of their way the first couple of days. He hadn’t even seen her, but when Bojan had ushered her in for tea this afternoon and Cesc had disappeared, he found himself forced to make small talk with this...woman.

“You don’t like me much, do you?” Lola asked.

Danny gaped, sure he’d hidden his feelings. “I don’t....know you very well.”

“Yes, but you think I’m that whore from the sex club who took advantage of Cesc and you’re afraid he’s not over me yet.” Lola was, if nothing else, blunt.

“He does speak of you.”

“If it’s any consolation, he was never with me that he didn’t speak of you. I was fun for him, you are his match,” Lola said, no trace of bitterness in her voice. 

Danny nodded. “I love him and he loves me.”

“He does,” Lola agreed. “And you are far more convenient that I in his father’s eyes, so it’s honestly for the best that he’s done with me.”

Bojan poured more tea. At least neither of them had stormed out as he thought they might. He’d promised Cesc half an hour.

* * * *

Hope was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She felt a bit like a princess locked in a tower as Lola had swept her to the top floor servants quarters with no one but Alex to bring her trays of food.

She knew she had to hide from Cesc, but she would like to at least see him while he was here. He was a sweet boy and he’d been so much fun.

A hand slid protectively to her belly. Lola was right. Cesc and his father would try to take her baby from her. As an unmarried American girl, she’d have no rights. They would take her daughter from her and she’d never see her again.

Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought. When she’d discovered she was pregnant, she hadn’t wanted to be, but in the two months since, she’d realized she wanted nothing more than this baby. And Lola would help her keep it.

“Hope?”

With a start, Hope sat up and saw Cesc standing in the door. “Cesc!”

But his eyes were focused on her belly. “Hope...you...”

“No!” Hope grabbed a pillow and covered her belly, but there wasn’t really any point.

“Are...are you pregnant?” Cesc asked, his mouth hanging open as he approached her.

“No, no I’m not, go away, Cesc!” Hope said desperately. “ALEX!”

“Yes you are!” Cesc said. “Hope! No! It’s okay! I’m not mad!”

But Hope was still screaming for Alex. Moments later, the young maid appeared. “Mistress, what....Lord Cesc!”

“Alex! Get Lola!”

Alex ran, and Cesc looked at Hope, confused.

“What...what’s going on, Hope?”

“Nothing, leave me alone,” Hope said, her face buried in the pillow.

“It’s my baby,” Cesc said, sure of it. “Hope...why are you hiding my baby from me?”

“It’s not yours, it’s mine,” Hope insisted.

“It’s ours. Hope!” Cesc said as he sat next to her on the bed. “Our baby. Oh!”

“You can’t take her!” Hope wailed. “She’s mine. Cesc! She’s mine and you can’t take her.”

“Hope! I don’t want to take her from you! I just...why didn’t you tell me!” Cesc wanted to comfort Hope, but when he got near her, she flinched away.

Cesc heard footsteps in the hallway and Lola appeared in the doorway. “Cesc! I told you to leave her alone!”

“What, so you could hide this from me? I have a right to know if I have a baby!”

“So you can do what, exactly? Use your daddy’s money to force Hope to give the baby to you? Make her disappear?”

“No,” Cesc insisted. “I wouldn’t do that?”

“So, what? Your Danish prince going to be content with you supporting the mother of your illegitimate baby?”

“I don’t know!” Cesc wailed as tears of frustration welled up in his eyes. “I just want to help her. I want to know my baby...I...”

“Cesc,” Lola said coldly. “This isn’t all about what you want. It’s what’s best for that child.”

Lola crossed over to the bed and sat with Hope, cradling the young woman in her arms.

“Lola, don’t let them take her.”

“I won’t.”

Cesc grew angry. “How dare you assume what I will do. How dare you keep this from me and then tell me I’m the unreasonable one!”

“So what are you going to do?” Lola asked, gazing levelly at him.

“Whatever I do you can be damn sure I’m not going to let you just disappear with my baby.”


	8. Chapters 71-80

Chapter 71

The frantic appearance of the maid made Danny suspicious, and he followed Lola up the stairs at a distance. Overhearing the argument, he quickly deduced what was going on.

Cesc had gotten that girl pregnant and Lola had been trying to hide it from him. Danny slipped away before Cesc could catch him listening. He found himself in the conservatory, sat on a bench, staring at at cactus.

What the hell had Cesc been thinking, sleeping with a young girl like this, sure to see his money and family and want a part of it. And Lola was sure to see the potential to getting her protege such a favorable marriage.

So why had Lola been hiding it? Did she think to turn up with a heavily pregnant girl in a few months that Cesc could not ignore?

Danny tried to work up some anger at Cesc, but in truth, by abandoning him, being not willing to stand up to his father for him, he’d put Cesc in the position that he could be taken advantage of. Cesc was not an idiot, but he was a sweet young man who could be taken advantage of.

Cesc found Danny brooding amongst the plants. One look at Danny’s face and Cesc knew he knew.

“Oh, Danny,” Cesc said. “Danny, I’m sorry. I....”

Danny sighed and pulled Cesc to him. “Shh, you haven’t done this on purpose.”

“She wasn’t going to tell me. She doesn’t want me to know my child.”

“I know women like this,” Danny said. “She wants money, and money she shall have.”

Cesc frowned. “But...she said she didn’t...”

“Oh Cesc,” Danny said. “Everyone can be bought. Everyone. You want this child?”

“Yes, oh Danny, yes. You know I want children. And this is my own child. I...”

“Shh,” Danny said. “Then this child you shall have.”

* * * *

Xavi was a soft hearted romantic, so he covered for Mesut so the young man could sneak out and see what Sami was up to. 

So Mesut slipped out of the house that evening and went to wait at Sami’s flat to see where he went out to this evening.

It didn’t take long. Sami appeared not half an hour after Mesut arrived, hustling down the steps to his flat and up the road. Mesut followed him down several streets to the tube station. Thankfully, Mesut had a handful of pennies in his pocket and slipped through the turnstile unnoticed by Sami.

As Mesut found himself in a pub south of the river, he thought perhaps he had a future at sneaking about after people. To be fair, Sami seemed rather distracted as he moved to the back of the pub and sat next to a man Mesut knew all too well.

Michael.

* * * *

Sami saw the dark look on Michael’s face and knew he was the only one in the noisy pub not celebrating the agreement Philip had made with the boss.

Philip had gotten them the hours and the wage increase. It was actually better than Sami thought they would get.

“I need another,” Michael snapped at Sami, pushing the empty pint glass at him.

Sami got up without question, grabbing the glass and making his way to the bar. He found Lukas propping up the bar. “Someone’s in a mood.”

“Why do you think I’m here and not back there with him,” Lukas said.

“Philipp hiding, too?”

“I’ve not seen him this evening,” Lukas said as he signaled the bartender for three pints.

“Really? I thought he’d be here celebrating. This is his victory, after all.”

“I think he’s hiding from Michael,” Lukas said.

“Or he’s celebrating with his lover,” muttered the man next to Lukas.

“What?” Sami asked, trying to think of the man’s name, but drawing a blank.

“Everyone knows he’s screwing Low. How do you think we got such a good deal?”

Sami gaped at the man. Everyone? Surely Michael didn’t. He would kill Philipp if he knew.

* * * *

Danny called Raul and then disconnected the phone. He sent Bojan to town with the only car to pick him up at the rail station hours before he was due to arrive to be sure that if Lola and Hope were leaving, they’d have to walk.

But Lola locked herself and Hope in her bedroom, with Alex sitting guard out front. However, the young woman looked actually terrified when Danny had walked past, and would have broken down into tears should Danny have actually tried to enter the room.

No, Danny didn’t want in. He just wanted to know where Lola, and more importantly, Hope, was at all times. 

Cesc was pacing the front hall. What would his father say? Danny was being so calm. Was this right? He’d promised Hope he wasn’t going to take the baby from her, but it seemed that’s what Danny intended to do.

If she wasn’t going to let him see it, it’s what had to be done, Cesc reassured himself. Cesc was willing to share, but if Hope was not, then he would take the baby. It was his baby and he had a right.

“Calm down, love,” Danny said as he brought Cesc a sandwich.

“I have to have my baby,” Cesc said tearfully.

“And have it you shall,” Danny promised. 

* * * *

Mesut couldn’t quite sort out what was going on. Sami and Lukas were in deep discussion about something, and Michael was sat alone, looking increasingly disgruntled as Sami failed to reappear with his pint.

Why Michael? Michael had been the root cause of all of Sami’s troubles in Liverpool. He knew Sami believed in rights for workers, but Sami never would have done some of the things he did if Michael hadn’t encouraged him.

Was this why Sami had broken up with him? Michael? 

Mesut grew angry at the thought that the man had done something to threaten Sami. That Sami, who was trying to put his life back together. He was going to give that jackass a piece of his mind.

“What are you doing here!”

Sami grabbed his arm and pulled him back out of sight of Michael.

“Sami! Is this why you broke up with me! You don’t have to be afraid of him!”

“Shut. Up,” Sami hissed as he dragged Mesut out into the street. “What are you doing here!” he repeated.

“Sami!” Mesut begged. “Don’t let him bully you. You’re better than this. You don’t have to be afraid of him.”

Tear sprang into Sami’s eyes. “But I do! He knows everything, Mes. And if I don’t do what he says he’ll go to the police and they’ll hurt you, too. I can’t let him hurt you. You have to leave. If he thinks I’m still with you he’ll hurt you,” he begged Mesut.

“And taking you from me hasn’t hurt us both already?” Mesut said as he clung to Sami. “No. Not this time. We face it all together this time.”

“What if he hurts you,” Sami begged. “I can’t live with myself if he hurts you.”

“I can’t live without you,” Mesut said. “I’ll die without you, anyway, so there’s nothing worse he could do to me.”

“Oh Mes,” Sami sobbed. “I didn’t want to do it. I need you.”

“I know,” Mesut said. “I forgive you.”

“You have to go now,” Sami said. “Michael already saw us together and he can’t see you now. Please.”

“Can I wait for you back at your flat?”

“Yes,” Sami said against his better judgment. “Yes, wait for me there.”

Mesut kissed him quickly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

 

Chapter 72

Raul hung up the phone, his jaw clenched. He rang the bell, and when Carles appeared, he said, “Tell Lord Guti I need to see him at once.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“And have the car readied. I’m going to Bernabeu.”

Carles’s eyes widened slightly with alarm, but he merely nodded and turned sharply on his heel.

Raul turned to the tray of liquor and was tempted to pour himself a measure, but he turned away. No. There would be no numbing of this pain. He would feel and and when it was over, it would serve as a reminder to never trust him again.

“You rang?” Guti asked, strolling in lazily, assessing Raul’s demeanor. He immediately knew that Raul knew. “Ah.”

“How long were you planning to keep this from me?”

“Quite frankly, forever,” Guti replied. “Lola took the girl away, when the baby was born, they were going to give it away, send the girl back to America, and never speak of it again.”

“This is my grandchild!” Raul said.

Guti sighed. “If you want another grandchild, then we can find a more suitable mother. I’m certain Iker is desperate for a baby. Find a woman who can be paid. The last thing Cesc needs right now is a baby with a woman who more than likely won’t go away quietly. He’s engaged to a prince, for fuck’s sake. You want to put that in jeopardy for the sake of an unborn child?”

Raul eyed Guti for a moment. What Guti said made sense. “Cesc is desperate to keep this child.”

Guti sighed. “Which is why he was never to know about it. Why you were never to know about it. Baby, I wanted to protect you both.” Guti had edged toward Raul and stroked the side of his face with his fingers. “This was my fuck up, letting Lola keep that girl around to begin with.”

Raul let himself be comforted by Guti. You know you can trust him. “Like you have any control over Lola.”

Guti chuckled. “I like to pretend.”

“What are we going to do?” Raul asked.

“We are going to Bernabeu and see what we can do to sort out this mess.”

* * * *

“We’re what?” Andy wailed as Carles entered the kitchen and announced that most of the staff was going to Bernabeu for a few days.

“Lord Raul and Guti are going to Bernabeu. They will need staff. Mesut, Gerard, and Juan, you will stay in London and see to the others. Andy, Xavi, Jordi and I will go to Bernabeu. Bojan is stocking the kitchen for our arrival. We leave in twenty minutes.”

A flurry of activity rose up and everyone scattered. Mesut, Juan, and Gerard ran to pack the Lords’ trunks, and the others went upstairs to gather their own few belongings they would need.

“Where is Bern-Bow?” Jordi asked as he struggled to keep up with Xavi. “Why we go?”

“It’s the family’s other house,” Xavi explained.

“But,” Jordi struggled for words. “I stay. I have stay.”

“No, you go where Lord Bernabeu tells us to go,” Xavi said, annoyed that the boy would choose today to get belligerent again. He’d been doing quite well, or so Xavi had thought.

“No, Xavi,” Jordi’s voice was pleading. “If I go. My mother. She no know. She worry.”

Xavi stopped. “You don’t want to leave London so your mother doesn’t worry?”

Jordi nodded. “She write. Every day. Lord Silva, he send. If I no write, she worry.”

Xavi lay his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Our post will still get to us at Bernabeu. And there is a place to post letters at the estate. You can still write to your mother from there.”

“Her letters, they come?” Jordi asked.

“Every one of them,” Xavi promised. “If you want to write her quickly before we leave and tell her we are going, I’ll have Mesut post it for you, okay?”

“Okay!” Jordi said happily. “I write.”

Xavi shook his head as the boy disappeared to his room. He was so sweetly earnest. Worried about writing to his mother, indeed. Speaking of that, he’d better leave a note for Pep that he would be out of town. Pep would be unhappy, seeing as Xavi was already going to be gone for at least a month due to the wedding, and some how he thought maybe once they all got down there, Lord Raul might just decide to stay until the wedding.

Not that Pep was every happy, anyway. It seemed everything Xavi did these days served only to annoy his lover who was unhappy to be settled in London. He craved adventure like the life in a factory could never provide.

* * * *

“We’ve got to tell Philipp that people know,” Lukas said quietly to Sami. It was just after Lukas’s shift and Sami had met him behind the factory. “It’s a miracle Michael doesn’t know already.”

“I know,” Sami sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Do you really think Philipp did it, though?”

“You mean slept with Low to get us the better deal?” Lukas asked. “I hope not, you know? Philipp is better than that.”

“But maybe he thought Michael would be mad if he couldn’t make a deal.”

“Are you kidding, Michael is angry we did make a deal,” Lukas said. “He wanted a strike!”

“Maybe Philipp was just trying to prevent that. You know he’s not much for the violence.”

“Yeah,” Lukas said. “I think all of us were happy to avoid it.”

Philipp came out the back entrance of the mill, and Lukas waved him over.

“Hey,” Philipp said. 

“Come on,” Sami said as he pulled them both away from the mill. They walked through the streets in the direction of the flat Lukas and Philipp were sharing.

“Look,” Lukas said. “People know about you and Low.”

“What about us? There’s nothing to know about.”

“Philipp, cut the bullshit. We know. And it’s only a matter of time until Michael finds out.”

“It was just one time,” Philipp said. “And it wasn’t the reason we got the deal, okay? The deal was done before that.”

“Michael’s still gonna be mad,” Lukas said.

And, as if to prove his point, Michael was stood in front of their flat when they arrived, and he didn’t look happy at all.

* * * *

Jordi’s jaw dropped when they pulled up to Bernabeu Hall. “This is house?”

“I think it’s called a manor,” Xavi said as he watched Jordi stare out the window in wonder. 

“Lord Raul is just behind us. We need tea ready when they arrive,” Carles said as the staff piled out of the car and to the back entrance of the house.

“The kitchen is a mess!” Andy wailed as he got a look as his beloved space. There were dirty dishes everywhere. “Who did this? Who’s been in my kitchen!”

“Certainly Bojan didn’t leave it in this state. Lord Cesc has only been here a few days, anyway,” Xavi said as he pushed up his sleeves and filled the kettle. 

There was a cold basin of washing up, and Xavi suspected that Bojan had been trying to get the place cleaned up, but hadn’t been able to make a very big dent. Someone had been staying at Bernabeu Hall.

Xavi set Jordi to work on the dishes as Carles served the tea and he went to unpack Lord Raul and Guti’s cases. If they’d know the place was in this state, they’d have brought Juan along as well. And with the wedding in three weeks!

As Xavi made his way up the back stairs with the cases, he was surprised to find a young maid sitting on a chair in the corridor.

“Who are you?” Xavi demanded.

“A-a-a-alex,” the woman stuttered.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-I-I work for Lola.”

“Lola is here?” Xavi asked, startled. “So it’s you who’s responsible for the mess in the kitchen.”

The woman went completely pale. “I meant to clean that up. I- I didn’t think anyone else would be here.”

“If you’re not busy at the moment, you might go down and help. Something tells me I don’t want to look in the laundry room, either?”

“I’ll take care of it!” Alex yelped and ran down the back stairs.

Xavi sighed. He wondered how long Lola had been here. And why she’d only brought one, lazy maid.

As he opened the door to Raul and Guti’s suite, he heard heavy footsteps coming up the front stairs. Xavi ducked inside the room.

“They’ve locked themselves in, Father,” Cesc said, as he scampered after his father. Guti and Danny trailed behind.

They? Xavi wondered. He knew he should get on with his work, but this was too good to ignore.

“Carles? The keys?”

Xavi spied Carles bringing up the rear, and the butler, who managed to be in the middle of what was going on still have the perfect air of not paying attention to what was not his business, produced the house keys. The door to the room was unlocked, and the four gentlemen went in.

“Xavi, could you please inform Andy that there will be eight for dinner?” 

Xavi jumped as he realized Carles had spotted him. “Right away!”

* * * *

“So, Philipp, a little birdy tells me that you have a new lover,” Michael said as he bore down on the smaller man.

Philipp’s eyes got wide. “It does?”

“Yes. You’ve been sleeping with the enemy, it seems.”

“Mr. Low is not our enemy!”

“Maybe we should take this inside,” Sami said, but Michael turned on him.

“And you, knowing full well what he was up to, you and Lukas both.”

“I didn’t!” Lukas said, even as he felt ashamed for not supporting Philipp. But Philipp had lied to him, too.

“Look, Michael. I’m getting tired of your threats,” Sami said as the anger surged in him. “We got these workers the deal they deserved. That was supposed to be the point.”

Michael took a step back. “It looks like I’m going to have to deal with all of you.”

Sami didn’t like the dangerous look in Michael’s eyes as he walked away.

“He doesn’t scare me,” Philipp said, even as his voice quavered.

Sami shook his head. “He should.”

* * * *

Lola stood in the middle of the room like a mother lioness prepared to defend her cub at all costs. Hope was in a chair in the corner, blue eyes wide and scared.

Cesc had gone back into little boy mode with both his father and his fiance fighting his battle, and fretted in the background. 

Lola met Raul’s gaze, not even sparing a glance for Guti. She wasn’t sure if she had his support, or if he still believed the lie she’d fed him about giving the baby away.

“How much do you want?” Raul asked, looking away from Lola and back at Hope.

“What?” Hope asked, confused.

“Money,” Raul said. “How much money to give us the baby when it is born and never be heard from again.”

“This baby is not for sale,” Lola said.

“You were going to give it away anyway,” Raul said. “What difference does it make to you if Cesc and Danny raise it or some stranger. And this way you are compensated. How much?”

Hope started to cry. “No...Lola! She’s mine!”

Guti sighed. “You were never giving this baby away, were you?”

Lola turned her gaze to him. “She wanted to keep the baby. I knew you wouldn’t let her. She’s foreign, she’s alone, and she’s terrified of you. I’m trying to protect her.”

“And how, exactly, does she intend to support this child?” Raul asked.

“With my help,” Lola said. “Why does Cesc have any more right to have the child than she does?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Raul said. “This isn’t about anyone’s rights. This is about what is best for this child. Being raised by a single woman cannot compare to the life it will have with Cesc and Danny. Besides. It will have no name and no position.”

“It will have my name,” Hope said. “My family’s name.”

“What family is that?” Raul asked derisively.

Lola took a breath and laid her trump card on the table. “Her father is Tim Howard.”

“Tim Howard,” Guti said, his jaw dropping. “The American shipping magnate, richer than the bloody King of England Tim Howard?”

“Yes,” Lola said. “And he happens to be coming to London next month and wants to visit with his baby girl.”

“Oh fuck,” Cesc said.

 

 

 

Chapter 73  
“Where is Father?” Sergio asked as he sat down at breakfast, wondering why Mesut was bringing him his toast which was slightly burnt. Andy never burnt his toast.

“Lord Bernabeu has retired to the country estate for a few days, my Lord,” Mesut said as he set out strawberry jam instead of marmalade.

Sergio frowned but spooned the fruit onto his toast anyway. “I feel like I missed something.”

“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Xabi said as he joined him. He picked up the paper from the silver tray. “Father and Guti left rather suddenly.”

“Is everything alright with Cesc?”

Mesut set coffee in front of Xabi, black. He knew exactly what was going on as Bojan had called to let he and Gerard know they’d be on their own for a couple more days. He was rather itching to tell the news, but knew it was not his place. He stood back as Xabi sipped his coffee and waited.

Sergio munched on his toast and gazed at Xabi. “So.”

Xabi looked up. “Yes?”

“What’s new with you? I feel like we never see you around any more.”

Xabi blushed.

“Oh,” Sergio said with a grin. “Tell. Who is it?”

Xabi glanced at Mesut.

Sergio turned to Mesut. “Mes, can I get some marmalade for my toast?”

“Yes, of course!” Mesut said as he realized he’d forgotten it. “Just a moment.”

Mesut scampered off and Sergio turned back to his brother. “Spill. We’re all happily in love and it’s your turn.”

Xabi sighed. “If I tell you, you must swear not to tell a soul, not even Fernando.”

“Who is it?” Sergio asked, his interest caught.

“Swear.”

“Xabs, you know I can’t keep a secret.”

“Then I’m not telling you.”

“XABIER!”

“Fine! It’s Steven.”

Sergio gaped. “Steven? Steven, Steven Gerrard, the love of your life who you thought you were going to lose because you had to produce an heir Steven?”

“Yes!” Xabi laughed at the description. “But...”

“What?” Sergio asked. “I hate buts.”

“He’s married.”

“Oh,” Sergio said. “Oh.”

“Yes,” Xabi sighed. “And he has no intention of leaving her.”

* * * *

Cesc paced. “He’s going to make me marry her.”

“He can’t force you,” Danny placated, though he knew, honestly, it was probably the best solution. For everyone but he and Cesc.

“Danny. My father wants us wed to rich and powerful families.”

“I’m still a prince.” Danny said, though the teasing was forced.

“I got this girl pregnant. I can’t ignore my responsibility to her.”

“You were ready to ignore it before you found out her father was rich,” Danny pointed out dryly.

“No I wasn’t!” Cesc spun on his heel to face Danny. “No I wasn’t- I was always going to see to it that our child was taken care of. You know I would have made sure she was looked after as well!”

Danny sighed as he reached for Cesc’s hands. “I’m just saying, why does the picture have to change just because she has money. Why can’t we just keep it quiet, send her to Greece with Lola, and then get the baby when it is born and send her home as we originally planned?”

“She’s not giving up the baby,” Cesc whined.

“I know,” Danny said, and even as he pulled Cesc into his arms, he could feel him slipping away.

* * * *

Philipp sat, his head in his hands. Michael was truly evil, he realized this now. How could there be any other explanation? He threatened to expose Sami and hurt Mesut. He would, without hesitation, start a strike that was sure to get people hurt, maybe even killed.

And now. Now this. Going to Jogi and threatening to expose their tryst. And to what end? Just because he hadn’t gotten his way?

This was sure to stir up the workers. The agreement would be off and the strike would begin.

Philipp couldn’t let that happen.

* * * *

Iker stuck his head into into the breakfast room. “Cesc has gone and made a right mess of things. We’re all going to Bernabeu.”

“All of us?” Xabi asked. “I have appointments.”

Sergio glanced across the breakfast table at him. 

“Yes, actual appointments,” Xabi shot back.

Iker nodded. “I’m sure father will understand.”

“What’s wrong with Cesc?” Sergio asked as Mesut brought in his marmalade.

Iker ignored him. “Mesut. Everyone but Xabi and his son will be leaving for Bernabeu today. Can you get everything arranged? You, Juan, and Gerard will come with us.”

“Will we be returning before the wedding?” Mesut asked.

“I can’t say,” Iker said. “Let’s assume we will.”

Mesut nodded as he deposited the marmalade for Sergio and went running back to the kitchens where Juan was burning more toast.

“You leave those in there too long,” Mesut said absently as Juan examined a charred slice.

“I’m no cook!” Juan complained. 

“You’re in luck. We’re heading to Bernabeu. I’ll finish here and you go get Lord Iker and Cristiano packed. I’m sure Fernando will handle his and Sergio’s cases.”

“Now packing I can do,” Juan said gratefully as he handed Mesut a stack of bread and went running.

Iker and Cris had already eaten in their room, so Mesut put together a tray for Fernando and started to clean up the kitchen. Too many things to be done...

There was a knock at the back door.

“For pity’s sake,” Mesut muttered as he went to answer it. He was shocked to find Sami there.

“Mes! Michael Ballack has been murdered!”

* * * * 

“Cesc, he always has to one-up everyone,” Sergio said as he found Fernando packing their cases.

“What’s happened?” Fernando asked as Sergio went to the closet to help.

“Who knows, Iker didn’t say and I didn’t like to ask,” Sergio replied as he retrieved his riding clothes. “Cesc always has to be the center of attention, going and doing something stupid right before our wedding.”

Fernando smiled and shook his head. “As if getting engaged to a prince just before our wedding wasn’t enough.”

“Exactly,” Sergio declared as he handed Fernando the clothes and stole a kiss.

“You don’t suppose it’s something serious, do you?” Fernando wondered as Sergio went back for more clothes. As much as he appreciated that Sergio liked to help, Sergio always wanted him to pack twice as many clothes as they would actually need.

“With Cesc? Who knows.”

* * * *

“Murdered!? Sami! What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Sami said, his head in his hands. “I...I was up late talking with Lukas. Michael’s just gotten out of hand, threatening people, and you know Low is a powerful man, I mean, there’s a reason he does all this underground stirring people up because he knows that these are powerful men, so...”

“Low did it?” Mes asked, trying to get his brain around the situation.

“I don’t know! I went to see him and he was dead...”

“You were at his flat? What...do the police know? Sami! People might have seen you at his flat, you have to tell the police you found him like that.”

“Mes, I didn’t kill him!” Sami pleaded, tears in his eyes. “You know me better than that.”

“I know,” Mesut said. “Oh, Sami I know, but you had motive, and if they saw you at his flat. If the police find you, Sami they’ll send you to jail anyway. Sami, you have to hide!”

“I can’t hide any more, Mes,” Sami said. “You’re right. I have to go to the police and tell them I found him dead.”

“No!”

“Mes,” Sami took his hands. “I’ll just my fake name. The papers are all good. Only you, Lukas and Philipp even know my real name. And we can trust them, Mes.”

“Do you think this is best?” Mesut asked.

“I know it is,” Sami said as he pulled him close. “I want to be with you and I don’t want us to have to hide.”

“Some days it seems like we’ll never be okay,” Mesut said as he dissolved into tears.

Unbeknownst to them both, someone had overheard them. And Gerard was, to say the least, shocked.

 

Chapter 74

“Lola.”

“Guti.”

She looked up at her old friend and braced herself to get yelled at. She knew she’d messed up everything for the both of them. If word got out what Lola had been doing, the club would be done. Even people who enjoyed sexual freedom had to draw the line somewhere.

Guti sat down across from Lola in the sitting room. Hope was asleep under the watchful gaze of Alex. A telegram had been sent to Hope father, asking him to come at once, and a reply had come that he was on the next boat. It had been agreed that no decision would be made until he arrived, and Lola had agreed not to try to run with Hope.

“There’s no good way out of this, is there?” Guti said carefully. He was angry with Lola, but he’d known her far to long to think that yelling and lecturing would get him anywhere.

“Personally, I think I had it all sorted until Cesc showed up here,” Lola said, the accusation plain.

“I had no idea he was coming until he was here,” Guti reminded her. “And I didn’t realize I needed to keep him on a leash!”

“It’s done,” Lola sighed, having no wish to get into an argument with Guti.

Guti sighed as well. “Did you honestly think you and the girl could raise the child without her father ever knowing?”

“She’s the youngest of six. Her father has three, strapping young sons to carry on the family legacy and she has two older sisters who are already married with children. And really, he left her in London under my care. Is he really that concerned about her?”

“You did convince him you were a well connected, well respected woman of means,” Guti reminded her.

“And I am,” Lola grinned. “In certain circles.”

“Not any polite ones.”

“Your social circles,” Lola shot back, but she smiled. “I was trying to protect Cesc, you do realize that.”

“I do,” Guti said. “But Raul does not see it that way.”

“Raul doesn’t see anything any way but that which is in his best interest.”

“That’s not fair,” Guti said. “He wanted Cesc to marry Danny as much as Cesc and Danny did. And now he’s going to make sure his son his held accountable for his actions.”

“Oh, and just maybe marry into the richest family in America?” Lola reminded him.

Guti shrugged. “I can’t say that it’s the worst thing ever to happen to him.” Guti got up and moved to the settee where Lola was sitting. He crouched down in front of her. “Cesc is not going to be a bad husband to Hope. He’s a kind young man and he will take care of her.”

Lola looked at him, tears in her eyes. “He’s going to take her away from me.”

Guti reached out for Lola’s hand, now realizing the real motivation in Lola. “You can still be a friend to her. She’s going to need support when this baby comes. Cesc works a lot and she’s going to need a friend.”

Lola shook her head. “You know Raul will never allow it. He’ll let her keep Alex as she will need a maid, but you know he will do his best to keep me out of her life. He’s been trying to get rid of me ever since he got you back.”

“Well,” Guti said, “you’ve kind of been a pain in his ass.”

“Guti!” Lola said and pulled her hands away.

“You have been!” Guti said. “He knows I love you, and while I’m with him, it bothers him that you’re so important to me.”

“You still love me after all of this?”

“You know I do, silly woman,” Guti said as he laid his head in her lap. “Even when you do dumb shit.”

Lola smiled and stroked Guti’s hair. “Do you think if I go to Raul, tell him that I will convince Hope that marrying Cesc is the best for everyone as long as he lets me stay in her life, he’ll agree.”

“Yes, I do,” Guti said, closing his eyes in relief.

“So who has to explain to Danny that he has to give up Cesc?”

* * * *

“So you found him dead,” Sergeant Gary Cahill asked Sami for the third time.

“I told you I did,” Sami said, trying not to get impatient. “I worked all night, driving my cab. My boss can verify my receipts. I dropped off my last fare at about 7 am. I was headed home, and decided to stop and talk with Michael before he left for work. I found him dead.”

“Was it common for you to meet with Mr. Ballack in the early hours of the morning?”

“Not really common,” Sami said with a shrug. “But he’d had a disagreement with a friend of mine and I wanted to sort it out.”

“Mr. Philipp Lahm?”

“Yes,” Sami said, feeling bad for having given the police Philipp’s name, but they eventually would have found out about him.

“What was the argument about?”

“Philipp was the union spokesman at the mill they work for. Philipp negotiated a deal to stop a strike that Michael wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Ah,” Gary said. “Michael was a union instigator.”

“I suppose?”

Gary shrugged. “A lot of people would have likely wanted him dead, is all.”

That was the truth, Sami thought. “Look, I need to get to bed so I can work again tonight. I’ve told you everything I know.”

“Yes,” Gary said as he scanned his notes. “I think so. You don’t have any plans to leave town do you?”

Sami thought forlornly of Mesut who was at Bernabeu for the foreseeable future. He’d liked to have taken his day off to go visit, but he knew now that was going to be impossible. “None at all.”

* * * *

“I’m never going to like this woman, no matter how hard you try to make me,” Raul grumbled when Guti came to tell him the news. He was sat at his desk in his library, looking over the accounts for Bernabeu. He’d been away entirely too long.

“Lola’s not a bad person, and besides, now that her protege is marrying your son, you’re never, ever getting rid of her,” Guti said.

Raul rolled his eyes. “Somehow I think you’re happy about this.”

“You and Lola are the most important people in my life,” Guti said. “If the two of you could just play nice, my life would be so much easier.”

“Never gonna happen,” Raul said.

Cesc walked into the lounge, looking forlorn.

“What’s the matter?” Raul asked as he rose from his desk chair.

“I’ve got to get back to London, father,” Cesc said. “I have to work in the morning.”

“Ah, yes,” Raul said as he crossed the room. “How are you?”

Cesc shrugged. “Fine.”

“Is Danny going back to London with you?”

“He’s going back to London, but I don’t suppose he’s with me any more, no.”

“Did he end the engagement?” Raul asked, sympathetic. He knew all too well the pain of giving up the one you loved because life had other plans for you.

“Yes,” Cesc said as he looked at the floor, willing himself to not start crying again.

“Life doesn’t always work out the way we plan,” Guti said. “But it does always work out for the best.”

Cesc looked up, his gaze cold. “I don’t think Danny is going to wait for thirty years for me.”

“Guti, could you excuse us?”

Guti nodded, not taking Cesc’s comments to heart. The young man was upset.

“Cesc, have a seat, please,” Raul said as he took the chair near him.

Cesc said, staring at his hands. 

“Cesc, when your mother and I got married, I was unhappy. I wanted to be with Guti more than anything in the world, but my father would not allow it. So I took it out on your mother. I barely spoke to her for the first years of our marriage. Quite frankly, it’s a miracle Xabi and Iker were conceived at all.”

Making a face, Cesc looked at his father. He didn’t really want to know about his parents sex life.

“After several years, as Xabi began to walk and talk, I started to notice what a wonderful, loving mother she was. She doted on him and took pride in every milestone he reached. And I came to realize that I was married to a wonderful woman.” Raul took Cesc’s hand. “Hope seems like a good woman. I don’t know her well, but Guti says she’s kind hearted.”

“She is,” Cesc said. “She’s quite lovely.”

Raul nodded. “What I am saying is this. Don’t waste years being angry at the circumstances. Make an effort to be a good husband to her, and build a life together. Because as happy as I am with Guti, I so regret I wasted years with your mother where we could have been happy.”

“I do love Hope,” Cesc said. “I just don’t want to give up Danny.”

“I know, but you must. And Danny knows this.”

“I hurt him,” Cesc whimpered. “I just feel like I can’t be happy with Hope because I hurt him.”

Raul shook his head. “Don’t think like this. Your responsibility now is to Hope and your child. You don’t get to indulge in childish wallowing.”

Cesc frowned to be called childish, but maybe his father had a point. “I want to do what’s right.”

“Marrying Hope is right. And being happy is not selfish.”

 

Chapter 75

Sergeant Cahill sighed. Everyone who had a motive had an alibi. No one saw or heard anything. He had the dead body of a know union instigator who, he’d found out, was wanted for crimes in Liverpool. Whoever had killed the man, had done everyone a favor, quite frankly.

That wasn’t something you could write in your report, though, he thought as he sat back in his desk.

“Anything new on the Ballack murder?” asked DI Frank Lampard.

Gary shook his head. “Whoever did it, knew what they were doing. No forced entry. The stabbed him once, precisely, and got out without being seen or heard.”

“And all the suspects accounted for?”

“Everyone. Lahm and Podolski were in their rooming house, Harry, the one who found him was working. Even the mill owner, Low, was at that sex club on the south bank.”

“Guti’s?” Frank asked with a slight grin.

“Indeed,” Gary said with a slight chuckle.

“Pack it in,” Frank said. “He didn’t have a wife or a rich father or anything?”

“No, no one,” Gary said.

“Then put it away. We’ve got too much else to do.”

* * * *

“Danny, stop pouting,” Nick said as he draped himself across the chaise in Danny’s office. “Yes, Cesc was a hot piece of ass, but he’s getting married to the girl he got pregnant. There are other fish in the sea.”

Danny looked up at his brother who was wearing his crown on his head at a jaunty angle. Some days Danny wondered that his father had dared die and leave Nick in charge. “I did love him.”

“I know you did,” Nick said with a sigh. “Trust me, I watched you mope over him for months. But honestly. This situation isn’t fixing. I’ve met her father. Cesc is marrying this girl.”

“You’ve met Tim Howard?”

“I was at a reception given by the president of America. Woody what's his name,” Nick waved a hand.

“Woodrow Wilson?”

“Yeah. Boring as shit. But anyway, Howard was there, and he is one of those guys that gets what he wants, when he wants it. He wanted to export something or other from Denmark. I don’t know. I think we let him.”

Danny paused. “So Tim Howard owes you a favor.”

Nick frowned. “I suppose so, why?”

Danny started to grin. “Because I think I know how we can call it in.”

* * * *

“Low did it,” Philipp said as he sat down at Sami’s kitchen table, setting down a bottle of whiskey.

“He did?” Lukas asked as he rummaged in the cupboard for clean glasses. “Sami, seriously, you date a maid, why are all your dishes dirty?”

“Focus!” Philipp cried. “I was....seeing him tonight and he said he’d taken care of the Ballack problem. He had him killed, you guys!”

“He knew Michael was going to expose you and him,” Sami said as he got up to rinse off some glasses. Mesut did do his dishes when he was over even though Sami insisted that he didn’t need to. Mesut had been gone for two weeks and the place was a tip.

“Well, at least he didn’t try to pin it on any of us,” Lukas said reasonably.

“He had Michael killed!” Philipp said. “And now he thinks we’re like a couple and I can’t break it off because he’ll have me killed too!”

“He’s not going to have you killed,” Lukas said. “Well, unless you dump him, yeah.”

“Oh my god!” Philipp said, freaking out.

“So did he say he had him killed?” Sami asked.

“Not specifically. Just said he wasn’t a problem any more. But he would know that I knew Michael was dead, surely?”

Lukas pour whiskey. “Maybe we should go back to the part where you slept with him again. I thought it was a one time thing?”

Philipp sighed. “I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”

“You accidentally had sex with our boss who may have killed our friend.”

“Oh, come off it, none of us liked Michael. He was threatening every one,” Sami said as he took a long drink.

“I used to like him,” Lukas said. “Til he got kinda crazy.”

“I have to get out of town,” Philipp said. “Sami. You have to help me get out of town.”

“And go where?” Sami asked. 

“Bernabeu.”

* * * *

Cesc sat in Hope’s room. “So. Married.”

Hope gave him half a smile. “Married.”

“We can make this work,” Cesc said confidently. “I mean, I like you, you like me. People have been in worse shape getting married.”

Hope nodded. “I do like you Cesc. But you love Danny. And I love Lola.”

Cesc sighed. “I know you do. And Lola loves you.”

“She does,” Hope said with a smile. “She tries to act like she’s my protector or something, but I know it’s because she loves me. And she doesn’t want to share me with you. Not really.”

“I know,” Cesc said. “I suppose at least she’s willing to stay around and accept us being married. Danny left.”

“Because Danny is a good man,” Hope said. “He’s not going to get in the middle of a marriage.”

“And Lola’s not a good woman?”

Hope chuckled. “Lola is a woman of questionable moral character.”

“And that’s why we love her,” Cesc said. He got up and kissed Hope’s forehead. “We’ll make this work, you and I. And we will love this little one.” He laid his hand on Hope’s stomach.

“We will,” Hope said, holding his hand to her as she felt the little girl kick.

* * * *

“So this Tim Howard. I’ve heard he’s scary. Do you think he’s scary?” Sergio asked as they all waited in the drawing room for the arrival of Hope’s father. He’d arrived in London the night before and was catching the early train to Bernabeu.

“I’ve heard he’s a good business man and he gets what he wants,” Raul said as Guti paced.

Lola and Hope were upstairs, and Cesc had escaped to the gardens to walk, unable to sit.

“I just hope Lola doesn’t get us all in trouble by opening her mouth,” Guti said.

Raul smiled. “For the record, you said that, not me.”

“Lola? Run her mouth?” Sergio laughed with them.

The door opened and Iker walked in. “Is he here yet?”

“Do you see a tall, scary American?” Sergio asked.

Iker gave him a look. “Cristiano’s going to see his father tomorrow, Father. Do you think it would be rude if I went with him, seeing as we’ll have guests.”

“Cris and Luis are finally going to talk?”

“I hope so,” Iker said, as Cristiano had still not forgiven his father from trying to keep he and Iker apart.

“Then you must go. We have a house full, I doubt Mr. Howard will notice.”

On cue, there was the sound of a car pulling up. Sergio sprang to his feet.

“I’ll get Cesc.”

Raul and Guti made their way to the front of the house to meet their guest, sending Juan upstairs to retrieve Hope and Lola.

When they saw the tall, imposing looking American get out of the car, Guti paled a little. “Lord, I hope he’s not mad at us.”

“Is that...” Raul began when a blond figure got out of the other side of the car.

“King Nicklas of Denmark!” Guti breathed.

Thankfully, years of good upbringing kicked in for Raul and he greeted his guests warmly. “King Nicklas, what a lovely surprise to see you here!”

“You must forgive me for intruding, but Mr. Howard and I had some business to discuss and it seemed silly to waste the trip up here. I should have called ahead.”

“Nonsense,” Raul demurred in the way you must to royalty even when they were being very, very rude. “Mr. Howard?”

“Lord Bernabeu,” Tim said, bowing his head deferentially. “May we speak privately?”

“Of course. Carles? Can you take His Majesty through to the drawing room and have Andy send up refreshments?”

“Of course,” Carles said. Royalty! He made a mental note to have Mesut and Jordi polish all the silver a second time before dinner. Of course Danny had been here before, but since the war, he was practically family. This was a king!

Raul led Tim to his office, and Guti was left to entertain the king.

“Can I offer you a drink?”

“I suppose it’s a bit to early in the day for a whiskey,” Tim said with a casual smile.

“Some days it’s never too early,” Raul agreed as he went to pour them both measures. “I trust your crossing was pleasant?”

“Quite good, thank you,” Tim said. “Look, Lord Bernabeu, I’m not one to mince words, so I’ll be blunt. I gather neither your son, nor my daughter actually want to marry.”

“My son is willing to marry your daughter to fulfill his obligation to her,” Raul said carefully.

“Yes, and that is most honorable. But he’s in love with someone else, yes?”

“Yes,” Raul said, seeing no reason to lie.

“And, from the letter my daughter sent, she’s in love with Lola, the woman I left her in the care of. What do you know of Lola?”

Raul took a sip of whiskey. “Lola is a dear friend of my companion, Guti.”

“I’ll cut to the chase. She’ll look after my Hope?”

“She is quite devoted to her, yes.”

“Good,” Tim drained his glass. “Now to be perfectly honest, in the eyes of society, the best thing for all parties is for your son and my daughter to marry. But let’s face the facts. She’s already pregnant. We’re never going to pretend they did things properly, if you know what I mean.”

“We have a scandal on our hands no matter how this plays out,” Raul summarized.

“Exactly. So why make two young people miserable in the process.”

“My son is keen to be a part of his child’s life,” Raul said, not adding that he too had no intention of letting his grandchild be raised away from his watchful eye.

“Of course he does. So here is what I propose. Hope stays with this Lola, maybe even they live here with you, if that is acceptable.”

Lola living in his house?

“Sure.”

“Cesc can be with Danny and live nearby or here, or whatever floats their boats. Hope and Cesc both take a hand in raising the child. No one is miserable. Sound good?”

Raul gazed at the man. The manner of the American was on the border of offensive to his gentile sensibilities, but he couldn’t disagree. “You are alright with your daughter not being married to the father of her child?”

“Lord Bernabeu, Hope has always had a mind of her own. I have five other children who, if you’ll pardon me, kiss my ass every minute of every day. Hope is not like them, and she is, as a matter of fact, my favorite child. I know I shouldn’t have left her in London, but she was determined. And now she’s gone and got herself in trouble, but you know what? I think she still deserves to be happy.” And if I talk you into taking this compromise the King of Denmark will waive all port taxes for me for 100 years, Tim added to himself. He stood to save millions over time. “What do you say?”

Raul nodded. “I’d say we have a deal.”

 

Chapter 76

 

Hope sat on the settee, rubbing her belly and telling her little one all about her grandfather who was coming to visit.

“He seems mean and scary, but he’s not, really,” she said. “He’s just a softie. You can turn those big brown eyes on him and he’ll do anything for you.”

“Indeed he will.”

Hope looked up, startled. “Daddy!”

“How is my favorite child?”

“Oh Daddy!” Hope said excitedly and threw herself at her father. “I’ve missed you!”

“You’ve kept yourself busy,” Tim said dryly and Hope flushed. 

“I’m sorry Daddy,” Hope said, looking down. “Lord Cesc and I will be married and we can just...”

“No,” Tim said. “I’ve sorted it with Lord Bernabeu. You will not be marrying Lord Cesc.”

“But...Daddy...” Hope said, looking up at him with her blue eyes full of tears.

“Hush,” Tim said as he kissed her forehead. “You’ve no desire to marry Lord Cesc and neither does he. Lord Beranbeu and I have decided that you will live in the family’s London home where you can be near to Cesc and you and he can both help raise the baby.”

“Oh. Okay,” Hope said.

“And,” Tim said, “we’ve agreed that Lola may stay on to help you with the baby.”

“Oh!” Hope said and laughed out loud. “But Lord Raul hates Lola!”

Tim chuckled. “I rather noticed, but never mind. You shall have her with you if that is what you want.”

“I do, Daddy,” Hope beamed.

“Good. I have some other news for you.”

“Oh?” Hope asked as they sat.

“Yes. I’m going to be opening a London office. Your brothers Carlos and Clint are coming to London to run it.”

Hope went pale. “Carlos and Clint? In London?”

“Yes,” Tim said with a smile. “They’ll be arriving by the end of the month.”

* * * *

Cesc cuddled up in Danny’s bed, burying his face in his beloved’s neck. “How am I here? I feel like I’m in a dream.”

Danny pulled Cesc close, breathing in his scent. “I don’t know. My brother is amazing.”

“We’ll name our first son Nicklas,” Cesc promised. 

“Mmm,” Danny agreed. “He wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I’d promise to name the baby Hope is having, but I already told her she could name it.” Cesc said. “She’s convinced it’s a girl anyway.”

“Nicola?” Danny wondered. “Hope has as much to thank him for as we do.”

“Hope wants to be with Lola, can you even imagine?”

“I thought we liked Lola!” Danny laughed.

“Oh we do,” Cesc said. “In small doses.”

“Indeed,” Danny said as he kissed Cesc’s cheek.

“Mmm, I have to work later,” Cesc protested halfheartedly. His whole being was sore from making love to Danny, but he could feel himself stirring again.

“Do you know what I want to do?” Danny said suddenly.

“Well, yes, but I can only grip the head board so long.”

“No!” Danny laughed out loud. “I want to marry you!”

“Yes, we’ve already been over this,” Cesc nuzzled him.

“No. Today. Right now,” Danny leaped out of the bed and began looking for his clothes. “We’ll go to the registry office. We’ll sign papers and buy rings and be married!”

“Today?” Cesc asked with a laugh as he watched Danny toss things from the floor. “I have to work in a couple of hours!”

“Then we better get moving! I’ve had to give you up twice now, I can’t even bear the thought that it could happen again.” Danny took Cesc’s hands and gazed down at him. 

Danny’s plea was so earnest that tears sprang into Cesc’s eyes. “Never. You will never lose me again.”

“I know. I know,” Danny said. “But let’s do it anyway.”

“Okay,” Cesc said and kissed him. Nothing. Never again. 

“Come on!” Danny dragged him out of the bed.

“My father will have a fit if he doesn’t get to be at our wedding.”

“We can throw a wedding later. I just want papers that say no one gets to take you from me,” Danny said as he threw Cesc’s trousers at him. “And after that we can discuss you not working any more, and being tied to my bed at all times.”

Cesc laughed. “No! I love my work.”

“Fine, then I’ll tie myself to your bed!”

“Mmm, how about we marry, I go to work and then come back here for more sex and snuggling, and tomorrow will take care of itself?”

“Fair enough.”

* * * *   
"So, Mr. Khedira, you're back," Raul said as he observed his old driver.

"Yes sir," Sami said, his eyes deferentially lowered. He hated this. He hated having to look at his feet while Raul lorded over him.

"We had a letter from the police, staying you were wanted as a draft dodger."

"Yes, sir. I have been in prison these last months." The lie slipped easily from Sami's lips. It was true. Hiding the way he had been had been a prison of its own.

"I see," Raul said as he observed Sami. The man did seem contrite.

"I understand you are in need of a driver, still?"

"Yes," Raul said carefully. "We haven't replaced you, as a matter of fact. Bojan drives so he's been filling in as needed, but with the family expanding by the day, we could use a full time driver again."

Sami stayed silent, not wanting to appear too eager. Yes he needed this job. Yes he needed to be near Mesut again, but he was damned if he was going to beg.

"Very well," Raul said. "We can take you on again. See Carles."

"Thank you, sir," Sami said, not able to hide all of the relief in his voice.

He made his way down the back stairs to find Mesut waiting, expectant look on his face.

"He said I could have the job."

Mesut whoppe with joy. "Yes!" He threw his arms around Sami and hugged him tightly. "Oh Sami, you're back here. Michael is gone and you don't ever have to hide again."

Sami held him close. No, this wasn't the job he really wanted. He'd rather enjoyed his freedom in London, but this was where Mesut was, and where Mesut was happiest.

And that was all that mattered.

* * * *

Cristiano sat in the familiar drawing room of the home he'd grown up in, noticing the silence of the place. His father was the only one in residence, Fabio having moved in with Raul a month ago. He briefly wondered if his father was lonely.

"Cristiano," his father said respectfully as he entered the room, but there was little warmth. Cristiano was glad he'd told Iker to take a walk when they'd arrived so he could speak with his father first. "Is your...husband not here with you?"

"Iker wanted to get some fresh air," Cristiano said. And if you decide to be an ass, I don't want my beloved to have to deal with it.

"It is a lovely day," Luis commented. "How are things at Bernabeu?"

"It's crazy with everyone getting ready for the wedding. Iker and I have to go into London tomorrow with Sergio to get the suits fitted for the wedding."

"I've been invited," Luis said.

"You would be most welcome," Cristiano said, though he wondered at the truth of it. He knew his father hadn't spoken with Raul since the winter when Xabi had returned. However, Raul would not have allowed Sergio to invite him if he was not at least willing to reconcile.

"Your cousin is marrying the maid, I understand?"

"Fernando, yes," Cristiano said. He too, wasn't entirely sold on the concept, but Sergio was Sergio. "They're going to Oxford together in the fall."

"Yes," Luis said. "My cousin can afford to send his help to University."

"Father," Cristiano said. "You have money. More money than you need, I'd warrant."

"Not nearly what the Bernabeu has," Luis said bitterly.

"It's time to get past this," Cristiano said. "Yes, I was unhappy too when it turned out that I would not inherit after all, but it is done."

"Yes," Luis said.

"And now is the time for you to congratulate me on my marriage," Cristiano said, his anger rising. "Iker and I are happy. We are considering having a child. I am happy."

Luis sighed. "I've got you running of to Italy to marry, Fabio shacked up with Raul, playing happy family with his kids. People talk Cristiano!"

"And I've got one brother in law marrying the maid, another having a baby with a woman he doesn't intend to marry and a third likely having an affair with a married man! You should be thankful I married Iker!"

"Cesc is going to have a baby?" Luis correctly interpreted.

"With an American!"

"Lord," Luis sighed. 

Cristiano gazed at his father. "I am ready to forgive you for trying to keep Iker and I apart, but you have to be ready to accept Iker into this family."

"I was trying to look after you. That fortune is rightly yours."

"No, it's not," Cristiano said. "And I don't want it anyway. Let Xabi deal with it. Iker and I are looking at houses. We want a family. Fabio is going to take me on as an assistant in his office. I know I'll not sit in the House of Lords, but it will give me purpose. And I will be home to dote on the children and look after Iker. Father, I'm happy."

"Fine," Luis consented. "If you want to give up what is rightly yours, then there is nothing in it for me. Go. Get Iker. He is welcome here."

"Thank you father," Cristiano said, knowing this was a big gesture from his father.

 

Chapter 77

"Wedding," Sergio said, rubbing his hands together as he waited for Iker to appear. They were headed to the tailor to have their morning coats fitted for the occasion, and Sergio was getting antsy to get all the details seen to. Fernando had been the day before, grumbling how it was ridiculous to buy an entire new suit for one day, but Sergio had been insistent.

"We can be frugal later," Sergio had begged. "Please let me be extravagant this one day?"

Fernando had relented and let Sergio off the leash. It was Raul's money, anyway, but Fernando wondered if Sergio was cabable of thinking about money in a reasonable way. In truth, Fernando wasn't muchy good at thinking about money, either. For his entire adult life all of his needs had been seen to by the family. He had to manage the small income he made, but when your clothes, food, and room were a part of the job, you just had to be sure you didn't waste all of your money down at the pub if you wanted any left over for something else.

Iker appeared with Cristiano behind. "Cris is much better at clothes than me," Iker said, threading his fingers through Cristiano's as they joined Sergio in the front hall. 

"I need to get a couple of new suits, anyway," Cristiano said as Sergio frowned, wanting Iker to himself today. Since they'd returned from Spain, they hadn't been apart for two minutes. "I'll leave you all to your morning suits."

"Xabi and Cesc are going to meet us at the shop," Sergio said, as all three of his brothers were going to stand up with him. Trying to get Cesc away from work and Danny long enough to get his suit fitted had been a task as well. Were he and Fernando this annoying?

"Who is Fernando having to stand with him?" Iker asked as the climbed into the back of the car. Sami was driving, and Iker was happy to have him back with the family. Bojan drove like a maniac.

"He wanted his friend Juan, you know, our maid, but Juan refused, saying it wasn't his place," Sergio said. "He doesn't really have any other friends."

"Oh," Iker said. "Could one of us stand with him? Or you, Cris?"

"I could," Cristiano offered. "He has no mates at all?"

"Just the staff and Bernabeu, and he had enough trouble getting them to take proper invitations and come as guests, rather than staff, though Carles and Xavi inisisted on still serving at the reception."

"For pity's sake, the help is being worse about all this than we are!" Iker said. "Everyone has taken Fernando in as part of the family, you'd think the staff would be reasonable!"

"It's difficult on them, I'm sure," Cristiano soothed Iker. "Fernando got to know Sergio at war, which changed things for them. The staff didn't get that chance."

"It bothers Fernando," Sergio sighed. "I cannot wait until we get to Oxford and start all anew and no know ever need know he was our maid."

Sami pulled up in front of the shop on Saville Row and the three men got out. Sami drove away to park the car, and would come back to wait for when he needed to collect it. He had a book tucked in his jacket to read while he waited. 

Xabi and Cesc were chatting about kids when they walked in. Cesc was beaming. "I do hope it's a girl because Hope wants one so desperately, but I'd love a son."

"A son is a blessing. I wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do with a daughter," Xabi laughed. 

Sergio's eyes caught on Cesc's left hand. "What is that!"

Cesc looked up and laughed. "I kinda got married?"

"You what!" Iker demanded as he grabbed Cesc's hand to admire the thick gold band with diamonds embedded it.

"We got married!" Cesc gushed. "Danny was afraid something else might go wrong before we got a chance to do it properly, and with your wedding coming up, we knew it would be months, so we just did it!"

"Oh! I'm so happy for you!" Sergio beamed as he hugged Cesc tightly. "Father will be furious!"

Cesc grinned. "I know, but we can do a wedding later."

"Something tells me after we get done with Sergio's, Father will be happy to not have to it all over again right away," Xabi said. "He's already gaping at the cost of it all."

"What," Sergio said with a mishchevious look. "We have to invite everyone!"

"You just want everyone talking about your wedding for the rest of the season," Iker said as he rolled his eyes.

"You got your moment in the sun, literally, when you ran off to Italy like a couple of star-crossed lovers," Sergio said. "I get my moment, too!"

The tailor was ready for them, and they were herded into the back for the fittings.

Sami got his whole book read as he waited.

* * * *

Mesut scampered up the stairs to the room he shared with Sami over the carriage house. Sami was away in London for a few days and Mesut missed him already. Having him back at Bernabeu, not having to sneak around, was pure bliss.

He pushed open the door and let out a startled cry when he found two men sitting on their bed.

"Who are you!" 

"Mesut?" the smaller man asked, and Mesut looked at him carefully.

"Phillip? Lukas!"

"Hey," Lukas said with half a smile. "Sorry to barge in on you here. We were looking for Sami."

"He's gone. Why are you here?" Mesut demanded. These men were from Sami's past. Not his now. 

"Sami didn't tell him," Phillip sighed.

"Tell me what!"

"Michael Ballack was murdered."

"Oh, yeah, I knew that," Mesut said with a sigh. "He didn't say you lot were going to be about."

"We'd been hoping to get jobs here at Bernabeu to hide out, and Sami was going to try to get us interviews."

Mesut sighed. He didn't want these men here, but he knew, deep down, that they weren't the problem. Michael had been the problem. "We are going to need some staff with the whole family in residence for the wedding. I can't promise they'll keep you on long term, but perhaps if you do well and show you know your place."

"Know our place?" Lukas asked with a disgusted look. "It's the twentieth century."

"Yes, but at Bernabeu there are staff and there is the family. And if you want to work here, you best drop the attitude and fall in line!" Mesut snapped and turned on his heel. "I'll speak with Carles. If you think you can keep your high and mighty attitudes in check, come by this afternoon for an interview. If not, I'd suggest you move on!"

 

Chapter 78

 

Xavi came down the back stairs with a basket of washing, his head spinning. There was just too much to do. The wedding was next week, most of the family had arrived, filling every nook and cranny in the house. Carles had hired two new footmen who didn’t seem to understand the concept of an honest day’s work. They’d asked what their hours were to be. Honestly. You got up in the morning in time to serve the breakfast, and you didn’t go to bed until all of the family had been seen too. These young people today expecting to be congratulated for just doing what they were told, as though that was some kind of miracle they had performed. They made Jordi, who he still found in corners reading football magazines, seem like an ideal worker. At least Jordi always had his work done before he went hiding.

Dropping the basket in the laundry room, Xavi went to see if Andy could make him a quick cup of tea before he went in search of the men. How long did it take to make 12 beds?

Andy set a steaming cup in front of him.

“Oh, Andy, bless you,” Xavi said as he sank into the chair.

“You’ve kept that maid Alex out of my hair, Andy said. “I am your slave.”

Xavi laughed. “She’s not much use, is she?”

“No,” Andy said. “And when she wanders down here at all hours looking for snacks for Lady Hope, it’s like she thinks this is her personal kitchen or something.”

“I’ve told her to see Juan if she needs anything,” Xavi said.

“Yes, which is why I love you,” Andy said, adding a biscuit to his plate.

“And Juan glared at me earlier,” Xavi grinned.

There was a knock on the back door. 

“I’ll get it,” Andy said as he dried his hands on a towel. Lunch had been served and he had a moment to breathe before dinner had to be started.

He opened the door. “Pep.”

Pep had a bag slung over his shoulder. “Is Xavi available?”

“Sure. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“I can’t stay, thanks.”

Andy realized the man had no idea what his name was. Not that they knew each other well, but it was strange that someone who claimed to care for Xavi so much wouldn’t even know the name of one of his closest work colleagues.

“Pep,” Xavi said, standing and brushing biscuit crumbs off of his jacket. He moved forward to embrace his boyfriend, but the reception he got was cold.

“Can we talk?”

Xavi took in Pep’s bag and his presence at Bernabeu and already knew. “You’re leaving again.”

“Xavi...” Pep began, but was cut off.

“Again. After all of your protestations that you were ready to be settled. It’ll be different this time!” Xavi didn’t even care that Andy could hear them. “All I need is you!”

“Xavi, please,” Pep begged. “Let me explain.”

“No,” Xavi said as he pushed him away. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. You’re so fucking selfish!”

“I’m just not cut out for life in one place!” Pep begged. “I need more than this.”

Xavi shook his head. “Just leave.”

“I want you to come with me!”

“No,” Xavi said. “No. Because you’ll just get tired of me too. And then I’m in Morocco or Brazil or god knows where, all alone, and nothing to come home to.”

“Xavi! I wouldn’t do that!”

“At least when you leave me now, I’ve still got a home.”

“This? You call THIS a home? Slavery?”

“Leave!” Xavi yelled as the tears began to flow. 

Andy appeared, ready to throw Pep out if necessary, but Pep took one glance at the glowering cook and backed toward the door.

“I do love you,” Pep protested as he left.

“Not as much as you love yourself!”

* * * *

Jordi finished dusting Lord Bernabeu’s room and scampered off to his favorite corner, in the back of the nursery. Lord Xabi’s son was now in residence, which meant that Jordi had to be careful of his timing, but the nanny usually had the little boy in the garden this time of the afternoon. He could always make an escape out the back in plenty of time as the boy made a racket coming up the stairs and Jordi had plenty of time.

But when he peered in he heard the sounds of quiet sobbing.

“Hello?”

Jordi’s eyes fell on his favorite corner, and he saw Xavi crumpled up there, tears streaming down his face. “Xavi! What is wrong?”

Xavi shook his head and struggled to get to his feet, but Jordi dropped to his knees in front of him, taking his hands.

“Tell me.”

Xavi’s eyes, wide with confusion and pain, met Jordi’s. “He left me. Again.”

“I am sorry,” Jordi said, his face full of concern. Xavi was so strong, so proper. It made Jordi’s heart ache to see him like this.

Xavi nodded and when Jordi leaned forward, he hugged him tightly.

“Why does he do this?” Xavi wailed. “Why does he do this? Why do I trust him?”

“He is stupid,” Jordi said. “You are better than him.”

Xavi smiled into Jordi’s shoulder. “You think?”

“I know. You are good man.”

As a matter of fact, Xavi was the best man Jordi had ever known. He was hard working and kind. He was patient with Jordi in ways that no one had ever been patient with him. he spent his free time helping Jordi with his English and had even found him some English football magazines so he could practice.

Xavi was amazing. What fool would leave him?

Jordi stroked Xavi’s back as he cried himself out. If Jordi ever saw this man who hurt his friend, he would kick his ass.

The sound of little feet came pounding up the stairs.

“We must go,” Jordi said, helping Xavi to his feet, scrambling to pick up his magazine as they made for the back door, escaping out the back door just in time. 

“I need to work.” Xavi said as he wiped his eyes.

“I will help,” Jordi said. “We need laundry?”

“Yes,” Xavi said. “A lot of it.”

“Okay. I wash,” Jordi said as he lead the way down the stairs to the lower level.

Xavi smiled. They’d make an honest person out of that kid.

 

 

Chapter 79

Fernando finally managed to corner Juan in the drawing room one afternoon a few days before the wedding. His friend had been completely avoiding him since he’d asked him to be his best man.

“Juan.”

“Yes, Mr. Torres?”

“Juan, call me Fernando, please?”

“Sure,” Juan said, but did not comply. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, you can,” Fernando said. “Juan. I need you to stand up with me at this wedding.”

“Mr...Fernando...I...I can’t,” Juan said, trying to edge for the door.

“Juan! They’re going to have Cristiano and Danny stand up with me. I’m surrounded by them. I need you up there. Someone real.”

Juan looked at the desperation in Fernando’s eyes. 

“Nando,” Juan said. “This IS your life now. They are your peers. Not me.”

“But you’re my friend.”

Juan sighed. “We used to be friends, Nando. A long time ago.”

“I don’t fit in with them,” Fernando said. “I don’t care about suits. I don’t want to go shopping any more. Sergio can’t talk about anything serious.”

Juan looked at Fernando for a long moment. “Then why are you marrying him?”

Fernando’s mouth fell open. “B-b-because I love him!”

“Okay,” Juan said. “If you love him and that’s enough, then you don’t need me to stand with you.”

* * * *

“God, I’m nervous,” Sergio said as he paced around the evening before the wedding. “Were you this nervous, Iker?”

“No,” Iker said. “We got married the day we decided to do it.”

“Me too,” Cesc said as he sipped the cocktail Carles had made. “I advise it.”

“Stop it,” Cristiano said. “Fernando loves you. You love him. There’s no other question that needs to be answered.”

“Where is Fernando?” Danny asked and Cesc started to giggle.

Everyone looked at Cesc. “He said...there was no other question and then...you asked a question!”

Danny chuckled. “Oh, I married that.”

“Shut up!” Cesc said, still giggling.

“Carles, don’t give him any more to drink!” Sergio said.

“Of course, my lord,” but even the butler had a small smile on his face.

The door opened and Fernando walked in. The brothers were all laughing, and Fernando felt out of place all over again. He was never going to fit in with them.

“There’s my husband to be,” Sergio said and a bright smile lit up his face. His beautiful face.

Fernando looked at him and he remembered why. Why he was marrying him. Why it didn’t matter, the stuff that made him a little uncomfortable. He had to make an effort.

“Sergio,” he said, crossing the room to kiss him on the cheek. Sergio beamed and slid his arm around him.

“I was nervous until I saw you,” Sergio whispered in his ear. “I love you.”

Fernando filled with warmth. “I love you.”

“You two, stop it!” Cesc pointed at them. “Gawd, newlyweds.”

“As he practically sits in Danny’s lap!” Iker said. He was sat on a couch next to Xabi, Cristiano across the room. Not that he didn’t keep staring at Cristiano.

No, only Xabi was alone. He and Steven had been meeting for weeks. And it was bliss to be in his arms again, after so many years. But it was killing him that Steven was cheating on his wife. That they had to hide. That his brothers were all here with their beloveds and Xabi was alone, unable to show off, too.

The room was full of happy chatter. Cousin Fabio and his...friend? Lover? What were he and Raul these days, Xabi wondered as his cousin leaned into the handsome man. Raul’s wife had died in the Flu epidemic, Xabi thought bitterly, and then felt ashamed of himself for wishing ill of Steven’s wife who’d done nothing wrong. Steven had thought Xabi was dead.

Iker sat and watched his husband across the room. Cristiano was talking with his brother and Raul, laughing at some story Fabio was telling. Iker felt desire course through him with a strength that actually surprised him. He loved Cris, with all his heart, and well, they were hardly celibate, but in the craziness of the wedding and everything Cesc had been getting himself into, he and Cristiano had barely had a moment to themselves. He'd longed for Cristiano when he was away at war, but in such an innocent way, Iker now realized.

This was...lust.

Iker felt himself blush as he turned back to his father and Xabi who were discussing, well, something.

Enough with the dirty thoughts, Iker told himself as he smiled at Xabi and finished his drink. Dinner was over, but the evening was far from ending.

But as the evening wore on, and the drink wound it's way through Iker's system, he found himself unable to keep his thoughts in check. Visions of Cristiano in the throes of passion made it impossible to think clearly.

At last, he saw Cristiano on his own, having excused himself from a conversation with Cesc and Danny, and Iker moved in.

"Having a good evening?" Cristiano asked.

"I want you," Iker whispered hotly in Cristiano's ear.

Cristiano's eyes grew wide. "You..."

"I want you," Iker repeated. "I want you to take me."

"Now?" Cristiano swallowed hard. Was Iker drunk? This was not like his husband at all.

"Cris, please," Iker said, his face turned away from the crowd, pleading in his eyes. "It's been days."

"A week," Cristiano corrected absently. This was hot. Cristiano felt his body reacting, and struggled to control his thoughts.

"Come on," Iker said as he nodded toward the door. Carles was missing, having gone to refill his father's favorite whiskey. "No one will see."

Cristiano set his glass down and took his husband's hand. Wordlessly, he pulled Iker out of the room, not even looking to see if they were observed.

In the corridor, Iker wrapped his arms around Cristiano and kissed his neck. "I need you."

"You said," Cristiano replied with a low moan as Iker's cock pressed into his backside and hands played up his sides. "Upstairs."

"Can't wait," Iker said as he lewdly fondled Cristiano.

"Iker!" Cristiano pulled away. "Anyone could walk out of that room and see us!"

Iker looked slightly ashamed of himself, but the moment passed. "They think I'm so innocent."

"They do," Cristiano said as he watched a mischievous gleam form in Iker's eye and he backed up toward the stairs. "Sergio's the family slut."

Iker laughed. "Sergio. He's about to find out that sex with your husband is one hundred times better than any other sex." He stalked Cristiano who kept out of his reach.

"And you would know this because?" Cristiano teased, stepping carefully, but ready to run should Iker lunge.

"Because I know these things," Iker said as he matched Cristiano's pace, loving the chase.

"Have you been having an affair?" Cristiano teased lightly.

"Never," Iker said. "Never will there be anyone for you but me."

Cristiano grinned, and then turned and bolted. Iker was on his heels, laughing out loud as they raced down the corridor, nearly running down Hope's startled maid on the way.

Slamming into the room, Cristiano ran to the other side of the bed. Iker paused at the door, closing and locking it, and then started to disrobe. "Get naked."

"Why?" Cristiano asked, trying to look innocent and the distention in his pants ruining the effect.

"I need you to fuck me."

"Iker! Language!" Cristiano said as he gazed at the skin Iker was exposing. Chest. Arms. Torso.

"You're going to put your cock in my ass."

"Iker Raul Gonzales Casillas!" Cristiano gasped. "Where did you learn such words!"

"My lover."

"I knew it!" Cristiano threw his hand across his forehead. "Who is he?"

"My lover?" Iker asked as his trousers fell. "He's gorgeous. Tall. Dark hair, eyes that light up when he looks at me."

A smiled played on Cristiano's lips. "What's his cock look like?"

"It's the best cock I've ever seen," Iker said as he stood, naked.

"Do you like to suck it?" Cristiano asked, straining not to touch himself. To run to lker. Standing still was torture, pure and simple.

"Oh yes," Iker moaned. "He loves that." Iker was making his way toward the bed. "He really likes it when I suck on his balls."

Cristiano was starting to sweat in his suit. Iker had crawled on to the bed and was splayed out, heavy cock bobbing, touching his chest. He began to pinch his nipples.

"What do you like him to do to you?"

"Everything," Iker said in a husky whisper. "I like everything he's ever done to me. He makes me feel like the sexiest man on the planet."

"You are," Cristiano said as he licked his lips, wondering how far Iker would take this. Tease him.

"No," Iker said. "He is."

"He's lucky to have you."

Iker smiled brightly. "He tells me, every day."

"He should," Cristiano nodded.

Iker leaned across toward Cristiano, nearly brushing past him as he reached into the bedside table. He retrieved the jar of lubricant and Cristiano wanted to cry his cock ached so badly.

But watching Iker run his fingers across his own body, gazing at Cristiano, being so free with him, so wanton, it was the hottest thing Cristiano had seen in his whole life. 

Watching Iker work himself open, writhing as he fingered himself broke Cristiano's resolve. He began to tear at his clothes, yanking down his trousers, ripping the seams in his haste.

"Fuck me now," Iker begged as he tugged at his cock and spread his thighs wide.

Cristiano didn't even pause to be sure Iker was ready for him. He was getting reamed with this cock, ready or not. Iker tilted up his hips and Cristiano drove him, causing them both to cry out in pleasure.

"Oh, god, oh god...Cris!" Iker gasped as he gripped at the sheets with one hand while jerking his cock with the other. So animal, just being taken. So good.

Cristiano withdrew suddenly, and Iker cried out.

"DON'T STOP!"

Wordlessly, Cristiano in turned Iker on his side. More leverage...needed...

Iker came up onto his knees, panting. "Fuck me ohgodplease!"

Cristiano complied, resuming his fucking with twice the vigor, hands slipping on Iker's sweaty hips. He was going to leave bruises, he thought vaguely as he felt himself peaking just as Iker clenched around him. Cristiano grunted and collapsed. Overcome.

Iker whimpered as Cristiano lay on top of him. Cristiano shifted slightly, sliding down beside Iker, and they both drifted off into a blissful slumber.

* * * *

Lola looked up from her book. "Damn."

Hope shifted in her seat. "God damn."

 

Chapter 80

 

Sergio gazed at Fernando as the vicar spoke. Words that meant nothing, really. Sergio already knew in his heart what he was getting. What he was promising. What would never, ever change between them.

Those freckles. They were madness, he pondered as he contemplated leaning over and kissing that one on his neck, but behind Fernando, Cristiano was giving him a glare that could only mean that Sergio’s face was giving away his lustful thoughts.

Church. They were in church.

Not that Cristiano was faring a whole lot better. He was trying to keep his eyes off of Iker who fidgeted in that uncomfortable way that told him that he was sore from the previous evening’s escapades.

Cristiano gazed out at the crowd to see Lola and Hope holding hands and looking happy. 

Baby. Iker wanted a baby. He really needed to get on that. Would they use a surrogate? A little one with Iker’s brown eyes would be lovely, but Cristiano also knew that there were children in need of homes. Maybe they’d go to the orphanage soon and speak with the people there. Iker wanted a dozen so perhaps some of both.

Fernando and Sergio embraced and Cristiano realized he’d missed the end. Whoops.

The crowd applauded enthusiastically as Sergio snuck in a little kiss and Fernando blushed.

As the wedding party made their way back down the aisle, Xabi caught sight of someone he would never in a million years have expected.

Steven’s wife.

She was alternately glaring at him and scanning the crowd. Xabi peeled away from the bridal party and crossed the church to her. What in the world was she doing here.

“Oh, hello Xabi,” she said brightly, and Xabi realized the woman might be drunk.

“Alexandra,” Xabi said. “How lovely to see you.”

“Cut the bullshit. Where is my husband?”

“In London, as far as I’m aware,” Xabi said, and frowned. People were beginning to look and Xabi pulled her out of sight.

She looked at him for a moment, and then smiled broadly. “Oh, he’s cheating on YOU TOO.”

Xabi eyed her carefully. “What did he tell you?”

“He said he was going to Liverpool for the weekend. Which, of course, when I heard about the Bernabeu wedding, I assumed he was coming here, but he didn’t. Where do you think he went?”

“Liverpool?” Xabi said. Though in truth, he wondered. Not that Steven had to tell him his every move, but when he said he’d be in London, Xabi assumed he would be.

“No he’s not. My father said Steven said nothing to him about it. Oh dear,” Alexandra smiled brightly. “He’s not faithful to anyone, is he? But I hear you’re married too, so who are you to complain?”

Xabi walked away from her at that point. He didn’t know what she’d intended to do here today, but he wasn’t going to stand around and listen to her.

“He doesn’t love anyone but himself, you know!” she called after him, but Xabi didn’t turn.

He wasn’t going to think about it today.

* * * *

“You know, if my father’s maids had looked like that, I might have married one, too,” Raul pondered as they watched Sergio and Fernando dance. Fabio smiled.

“You’d have seduced them, anyway,” Fabio said.

“I might have,” Raul grinned. “Though, to be fair, when I was younger, it was mostly only you.”

Fabio looked at him. “Really?”

Raul shrugged, slightly embarrassed to admit it. “You were my first.”

“Oh, Raul,” Fabio said as he took his hand and squeezed it. They’d been kids, really, but Raul had seemed so worldly and experienced, and Fabio had been so worried he was doing it all wrong, he didn’t even stop to consider how Raul might have felt.

Raul smiled at him. “You know you’re the only one I ever really loved.”

“You didn’t love you wife?”

Raul shrugged. “I had to marry her to please my father. She was a very nice woman, but I didn’t love her.” He couldn’t believe they were having this discussion here. Maybe it was the drink or the day. “You learn to hide you feelings when you don’t have control of your own life.”

Fabio squeezed his hand. He knew how Raul felt. His father ran his whole life. Fabio had been given so many freedoms.

Raul fell silent, already feeling foolish for sharing all of his feelings. He knew Fabio didn’t judge him, but he liked to keep things to himself. People couldn’t hurt you with your feelings if they were unaware of them.

* * * *

After the wedding feast, Sergio claimed that he and Fernando were dreadfully tired from all of the excitement and needed to go to bed. No one believed them, but one glare from Raul made everyone shut their mouths and wish the couple a good evening.

“Wedding night,” Guti whispered in Raul’s ear.

Raul gave him a look. “No, not ours.”

Guti made a pouty face. “But we’re not getting married!”

Raul shook his head. “You’re the one that doesn’t want to get married.”

“Sure, hold that against me!” Guti complained with a cheeky grin. It was true. He and Raul had talked about marriage, but Guti had put him off. Guti loved Raul with all his heart, but he knew that Raul still had expectations of marriage that Guti wasn’t sure he could live up to.

Lola rescued him but sliding up to the pair. “Beautiful wedding, Lord Bernabeu,” she said with a smile. 

“Thank you,” Raul said with a nod. Lola had been being very, very polite to him since it had been decided that Hope would stay on with them under Lola’s care. Raul was incredibly suspicious.

“Hope and I are going to excuse ourselves as well. She’s rather tired.”

“Everything alright?” Raul asked. 

“Oh, fine. She just needs more rest than she’ll admit to. She wants to stay up all night like she’s not about to become a mother.”

“You’re taking very good care of her,” Raul reluctantly admitted.

“Thank you,” Lola said.

Guti was beaming. Now that Raul and Lola were being forced to be nice to each other for the sake of the child, his life was so much easier.

Lola gave him a look and excused herself to collect Hope who looked belligerent to be told she needed to go to bed.

“I think Cesc may have dodged something there.”

“Hope?” Guti asked. 

“She’s a lovely young woman, but Cesc never could have handled her headstrong nature.”

“She would have eaten Cesc alive,” Guti laughed. But even as he did, he saw Cesc and Danny, laughing together and looking so happy.

 

* * * *

Sergio and Fernando stripped off all of their clothes as soon as they got to the bedroom and slipped under the covers, giggling and not touching each other.

Fernando turned to Sergio. “So.”

“So.”

Sergio giggled.

“So since we had pre-marital sex does that mean no marital sex?”

“What?” Sergio asked, aghast. “Then what the HELL did we get married for?”

“No idea,” Fernando giggled.

“That’s it,” Sergio threw the covers back. “I’m going to insist that we get this thin annulled immediately!” He stalked over to the door in all his naked glory and Fernando laughed so hard he couldn’t even breathe.

Sergio doubled over as well and was gasping by the time he made it back to the bed. “I...love...you...”

Fernando pulled him in and they attempted to kiss, and missed, which made them laugh all the harder. Their bodies crashed together and Fernando yelped as Sergio kneeled on his thigh.

“This..isn’t...very...sexy,” Fernando panted as Sergio laid on him trying desperately to catch his breath. The comment only made him laugh harder.

“You want sexy?” Sergio asked as he came up onto his knees. He stuck his pinkie finger in the side of his mouth and tried to keep a straight face.

Fernando started to laugh again and Sergio pounced on him.

“Don’t make FUN!” Sergio whined unconvincingly. 

Fernando pulled him down to the bed and scooted around so they were head to foot. “So, Guti gave me this book.”

“Yes?” Sergio asked as he kissed Fernando’s toes, still breathing heavily.

“And there’s this thing...were you like...both...” Fernando leaned in to demonstrate, taking Sergio’s cock in hand.

“Yeah?” Sergio asked, his giggles forgotten as his cock hardened. Fernando took the member into his mouth. Sergio closed his eyes and moaned.

Fernando pulled back. “Now...you do me.”

“Oh...OH,” Sergio said as he scooted into place, wrapping a hand around Fernando and giving it a few light strokes.

“Mmm,” Fernando agreed as his mouth was once again full of cock.

Oh damn, Sergio thought. He took Fernando into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and feeling Fernando do the same to him. Experimentally, he fondled Fernando’s balls.

Fernando replied in kind. Sergio smiled around Fernando’s cock. Yeah, this worked. For the next fifteen minutes, he teased and sucked, stoked and backed off, bringing Fernando up to delicious peaks and denying him climax, all the while getting the same treatment to his own cock. However, with Fernando’s balls rolling across his tongue, cock in both fists, Sergio misjudged his husband’s need and got a face full of cum as Fernando cried out. Sergio giggled as he released him, but Fernando quickly had him back on track with his cock all the way down his throat. Sergio groaned loudly and came hard.

“Oh...damn,” Fernando sighed happily.

“Anything else in Guti’s book?” Sergio asked as he wiped the cum out of his hair.

“More than you can imagine.”


	9. Chapters 81-89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the latest, but hardly the last.
> 
> I'll update as I write. Thank you all for the warm welcome.
> 
> X

Chapter 81

 

Fabio waited in the main hall for Raul to emerge. They were headed back to London this morning. Fabio needed to get back to work as the Prime Minister wanted to meet with him personally tomorrow. Cristiano appeared to say farewell to his brother.

“Will you be back in London, soon?” Fabio asked as they embraced.

“I think so. Cesc has to get back for work, and Iker never likes to be far away from his favorite little brother.”

Fabio smiled. “Oh to have a brother that doted on you so.”

Cristiano laughed. “Hey, I stopped beating you up years ago!”

Fabio only shook his head. He was glad that his brother was settled and happy. 

“Will you see our father in London?” Cristiano asked.

“Most likely,” Fabio said. “I thought you and he had made your peace?”

“We have,” Cristiano nodded. “But he still won’t speak to his brother.”

“I know,” Fabio sighed. In truth, he’d been hoping his father would bury the hatchet and come to the wedding, but he did not. Iker said he’d been invited, but declined the invitation.

“Perhaps we can conceive a reason that they both need to be in the same place,” Cristiano mused.

“If not for a wedding, than what?”

“A christening?” Cristiano said.

“You having a baby?” Fabio asked pointedly.

Cristiano shrugged. “Maybe sooner than you think.”

* * * *

“But I don’t want to go to London,” Hope whined.

Lola gave her a look. “That crap may work on your darling father, Hope, but stop it with me right now or I’m leaving you to raise this baby alone.”

Hope stuck out her lower lip. “You can’t leave me, my daddy said you had to take care of me!”

Lola strode over to where Hope sat on the edge of the bed. “Your daddy tells me to do nothing.” She took Hope’s chin in hand. “You’ve been acting like a spoiled little brat since he showed up here and I’m not having it.”

“You’re being mean!”

“I’m telling you to stop acting like a child. You are about to become a mother.”

Hope’s face scrunched up and she started to cry. “I don’t want to do it, Lola!”

“You...what?”

“I’m scared!” Hope wailed and crumpled into Lola’s arms. “In a couple of months this BABY is going to come out of me. And it’s going to HURT.”

“Oh Hope,” Lola sighed as she cradled her close. “It is going to hurt.”

Hope sobbed.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Baby,” Lola soothed. “But you want this baby. You know you do.”

“I don’t,” Hope whined. “Who am I kidding. I’m not fit to be a mother!”

“Yes you are,” Lola said. “Lesser women than you have handled it, and you will as well.”

“What if I fail??”

“You won’t,” Lola said. “You will love this baby and care for it and it will be wonderful.”

“Promise?”

“Of course,” Lola said. “Now gather up your books, we’re getting the train this afternoon.”

“Why can’t we stay here?” Hope pouted as she wiped her eyes.

“Because it was part of the deal. We have to be in London near Cesc. And your lovely brothers arrive next week.”

“Oh god,” Hope moaned. “Carlos and Clint.”

“Indeed,” Lola said, though if they were half as attractive as their daddy, Lola wasn’t going to mind having them around at all.

* * * *

“So,” Cristiano kissed Iker’s hand as they pulled into the Paddington train station in the early evening. “What would you say if I told you I’ve got a surprise for you?”

“I’d say you’d better tell me about it,” Iker grinned. They’d been talking about buying a house, and Cristiano was the kind to just buy it and take Iker to it. Iker generally didn’t mind. Cristiano had excellent taste.

“Two things, actually.”

“Now you have to tell me!” Iker begged.

“You have to wait,” Cristiano kissed his cheek as he rose to disembark the train.

Sami collected them from the station, and as they drove toward home, Iker watched carefully, to see if he turned a different way. 

When they were nearly to his father’s house, Sami turned left instead of right, and pulled to a stop in front of a gorgeous house.

“Ours?” Iker asked happily.

“Ours,” Cristiano said and laughed as Iker didn’t even wait until Sami opened the door to fling it open for himself and ran up the steps. The front door opened, and Carles stood there.

“Carles!”

“Lord Iker,” he said with the hint of a smile. “Your father and Lord Cristiano thought it would be best for me to help set up house and hire staff.”

“We can’t convince you to stay?” Iker asked cheekily, knowing that the loyal butler would likely die whenever it would be the most convenient for the family.

“I’m sorry sir,” Carles said sincerely.

There was a small cry, and Iker looked around. “What’s that?”

“Well,” Cristiano said, sharing a look with Carles. “I’m hoping it’s our son.”

“Our...SON?”

 

A young woman appeared with a tiny bundle in her arms. 

“Oh, CRIS!” Iker exclaimed as he approached her and peered down at the scrunched up little face, no more than a few days old.

The woman handed over the baby, and Iker cuddled him close. “Oh, Cris, is he ours? Is he really ours?”

“He is,” Cristiano said as he stroked the soft brown fuzz on the baby’s head. “I had contacted the orphanage about starting to think about adopting, and they said they had this little one due soon, and did we want him. It was too perfect to pass up.”

“Oh Cris,” Iker said as his tears fell. “Oh it’s too perfect. Our son.”

“Our son,” Cristiano said, kissing Iker’s temple.

 

Chapter 82

Carles sat at the head of the table, with all of the household staff around him. “I’m sure by now most of you have heard that Lord Iker and Lord Cristiano have set up their own household just around the corner. And Lord Iker has gotten permission from Lord Raul to extend the offer to any of you who would like, to join his household.”

There was a quiet buzz.

Gerard looked up. “Do they have a butler?”

“Not as yet,” Carles said evasively, “but they have someone in mind. Jordi, Iker requested that you join them as you are only here on his behalf.”

“I leave?” Jordi asked and looked worriedly at Xavi. “Xavi...I no want leave. I stay. Carles, I stay!”

Xavi wrapped his hand around Jordi’s. “Carles, if it would be acceptable, I think I would like to go with Lord Iker. I could be head housemaid for him, and help him set up the home. Especially with the little one in the house.”

Carles nodded. “I will be sorry to lose you, but I agree.”

“And Juan, I think, is ready to step up as head housemaid.”

Juan flushed with pleasure. “Thank you.”

Carles nodded. “That would be fine.”

Xavi smiled at Jordi who beamed. 

“We go together?” Jordi clarified.

“Yes, with Lord Iker.”

Mesut spoke up. “I’d like to stay, if that’s alright. Me and Sami.”

Carles nodded. “That is fine.”

Bojan opened his mouth, but Carles gave him a look to silence him. Bojan frowned. What was that about? Did his father expect him to stay here? He wasn’t a little kid any more. He was a war veteran!

Andy decided to stay. Philipp and Lukas were living at Bernabeu now and would stay with Lord Raul.

“So who’s going to be the butler?” Gerard asked again.

“Bojan, may I speak with you?”

“Sure,” Bojan said as he got up from the table and followed Carles down the corridor, leaving everyone else talking excitedly about the changes.

Carles closed the door behind them. “Bojan, I wanted to discuss this with you not in front of the others.”

“Okay,” Bojan said, feeling nervous. 

“The fact is that Lord Cristiano has asked to have you as butler at the new house.”

Bojan’s jaw dropped. “Me!? As Butler?!??”

“I’ve told his lordship that you’ve been working as a footman and wasn’t sure you had the experience necessary, but he’s insisted,” Carles said honestly.

“You...you don’t think I can do it?” Bojan asked, crushed.

“I didn’t say that. I simply said that I wasn’t sure you’d had the experience. I think, with time and proper training, you will make an excellent butler.”

“So...”

“As I said, Lord Cristiano insisted. Apparently after your service to him in the war, he’s keen to have you. I’ve told him you’d be fine for it and have offered to help train you.”

“You did?” Bojan said as his eyes welled up with tears. “Oh!” Bojan threw his arms around Carles. “Thank you, Dad!”

Carles hugged him back even though it was highly undignified. “You’re welcome...son.”

* * * *

“And he made that little punk the butler at Lord Iker’s new house! As if he has any real experience for it! It’s just because it’s his son!”

Victor ignored Gerard’s rant. He had other ideas in his head. In truth, he’d struggled to find good work in London, as the smuggling business had dried up after Karim had been arrested and he was tired of being a bartender.

“Do you think they’ll be taking on staff?” Victor asked.

“They’ll have to,” Gerard answered petulantly, unhappy to be ignored. “Lord Cesc, of course, is moving into the Danish embassy with Prince Daniel, but Lola and Miss Hope are moving in.”

“You need to get me an interview. Tell them I’m a war friend of yours. It’s not a lie, anyway.”

“You want to be a servant?” Gerard asked, his friend hardly suited for servitude.

“Not really, but you live in that posh place and have all your needs seen to. It’d be a far sight better than his grotty flat I’m in!”

Gerard looked doubtful, but really, could he say no?

* * * *

“Oh hush now,” Iker said as he rocked the crying little boy and paced the nursery. “What can Daddy do?”

“Lord Iker,” Xavi said, sticking his head in the nursery, “do you want me to rouse the nanny?”

“No,” Iker said even as he felt himself too tired to think. “She was up with him all last night.”

“It is her job, sir,” Xavi said.

“I know,” Iker sighed. “I just want to be there for him. Like my mother was whenever we didn’t feel well.”

Xavi nodded. “Can I see him a moment?”

“Sure,” Iker said and carefully passed over Raul-Luis. 

“Oh, why so much noise little master?” Xavi asked. He carefully laid the baby on his shoulder. “So much noise.” He stroked the warm little back and the baby began to settle.

“Oh,” Iker said. “He likes Mister Xavi, doesn’t he?” Iker stroked Raul-Luis’s head.

“Sometimes they just like a little adjustment, sir,” Xavi said as he carefully passed the baby back, and Iker copied his hold.

“There’s a good boy,” Iker said, relief flooding through him. “Thank you, Xavi.”

“No problem, sir. I have six younger siblings.”

Raul-Luis snuffled against Iker’s shoulder. “And thank you for coming with us to the house,” Iker said. “It’s been so crazy getting settled in with the baby and everything and with the christening tomorrow...”

“It’s all been seen to, Lord Iker,” Xavi promised. “Bojan has everything arranged and Carles and Gerard are going to come help us serve at the luncheon after.”

“Good,” Iker said. “I don’t have to tell you how important this is for the family.”

“Of course not, My Lord,” Xavi said. Both Lord Raul and Lord Luis would be attending, the first time they’d seen each other since the falling out last Christmas.

“Will you sleep now, little man, if I lay you down?”

Raul-Luis was fast asleep. Iker carefully laid him in the bassinet, and the baby slept on.

* * * *

Victor stood in a suit with a tray of some kind of pastry puffs . They smelled really good. The new chef, Oriol, had trained in Paris, and had put on a marvelous spread for the christening luncheon.

In truth, this serving stuff wasn’t all that bad. The family was very polite, and really, how hard was it to stand around with puffed pastry?

Luis was holding the baby. Raul-Luis had slept all morning and was now smiling at everyone.

“He’s simply gorgeous, son,” Luis said as he gazed at his grandson. “Just gorgeous.”

“We rather like the little guy,” Raul said, approaching his brother.

Luis looked at him. “Iker and Cristiano are going to be amazing parents.”

“They are,” Raul said. “When Iker rang and told me that Cristiano had surprised him, I was so pleased for both of them.”

Luis stroked the baby’s head. “I’m sorry. About trying to keep Cristiano from marrying Iker.”

“It was as much me as you,” Raul said. “And I should have thought more about Cristiano’s feelings when Xabi returned. I was just so happy to have my son back.”

Luis nodded. “I’d like it if you and Guti came to dinner some night this week.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Across, the room, Iker was grinning. “Look! Oh, you were so right, Cris.”

“No one can stay angry when they’re holding a baby,” Cristiano smiled as Cesc interrupted the reconciling brothers to take his nephew and godson off of his grandfather.

“I need practice,” Cesc said as he cuddled the baby. “Yes. You are going to have a little cousin in a few months. You will be the best of friends, I know it.”

“You should specialize in pediatrics, Cesc,” Luis said. “You’ve got a gift with kids.”

“I love these little guys,” Cesc agreed. “So cute. The cutest little nephew ever!”

Xabi called over. “Except Jon, of course!”

“Sorry,” Iker replied. “Raul-Luis is cuter!”

“Oh my lord, I know we’re open-minded, urban men, but heavens do you all sound like a bunch of pansies,” Sergio said.

They all laughed out loud, but Cesc leaned down to Raul-Luis, “Ignore Uncle Sergio. You’re the cutest widdle one.”

 

Chapter 83

September 1919

Fernando sat nervously on a chair outside his new tutor’s office, turning the appointment card over and over in his hand. He had thought his and Sergio’s tutor was going to be Dr. Villas-Boas, but he’d gotten a card in the post last week telling him it was being changed and he’d be meeting the new person here today.

“Fernando Torres?”

Fernando looked up and saw Dr Esteban Granero. “Dr. Esteban!”

“Fernando!” he said, a wide smile appearing on his face. “How are you! How’s the family?”

“Everyone is well,” Fernando said with a smile as he followed Dr. Esteban into his office. “We’ve had a number of marriages and babies.”

“I heard about that. Cesc still writes me every now and again.”

“Are you working here now?” Fernando asked, confused.

“I am,” Dr. Esteban said. “After the war, I decided that something less on the front lines was in order. I work with the medical students, but my passion has always been for history and literature, so I offered to take on a few students on the side, though with your work in accountancy, I was a bit surprised to see your name on my list.”

“Sergio is going to work with Dr Villas-Boas,” Fernando said. “Perhaps they didn’t want us with the same tutor as we’re married.”

“That could be,” Dr Esteban agreed. “Anyway, I’m very happy to work with you, Fernando. I’m certain you’re going to be an excellent student.”

* * * * 

Hope’s brothers Clint and Carlos had been due to arrive in July, but a small crisis in the New York office had delayed their departure, and they were just now arriving in London today.

Wearing a path in the sitting room carpet, Hope paced.

“Darling, please have a seat,” Lola begged as she watched Hope waddle across the carpet. She was seven months pregnant and looked every bit of it. She wasn’t fat, just rather round.

“I’m fine,” Hope insisted. Sitting made the baby kick at her bladder, and until she could convince the little footballer to stop, she was going to stand.

The front doorbell rang and Hope started.

“Please sit?” Lola asked again, reaching a hand for her. Lola didn’t go all in for lady-like behavior, but if her brothers were not going to be happy with her at all, it was always good to act like you had some class. Men liked it when you looked docile.

Hope relented and came to sit next to Lola. Thankfully, the baby shifted and stopped kicking. 

“We’re here to see our little sister!” boomed a very loud, very American voice.

Carlos. Tears sprang to Hope’s eyes as she’d forgotten just how much she missed her big brothers.

Carles opened the door and he was nearly run down by two tall, dark and gorgeous men. Lola had to control herself to keep herself from drooling. It was a toss up which one was hotter.

“Baby Hope!”

In a completely improper display, one of them came and nearly lifted her off her feet as he hugged her tightly.

“Holy shit, Dad, wasn’t kidding, you are pregnant!”

“Carlos!” Hope laughed out loud.

“Don’t hog her,” said the other.

“Clint!” Hope laughed as he wrapped around her as well. She closed her eyes and sighed. Oh yes, this was what safety felt like.

They finally released Hope. “Excuse our manners,” Carlos said, turing his high wattage smile on Lola. “Daddy tells us we don’t have any.”

When you’re that gorgeous, do you need any?

“Carlos, Clint, this is Lola, Lola, these are my brothers, Carlos and Clint.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Carlos said as he took and kissed Lola’s hand.

Damn.

“Nice to meet you,” Lola said as she nearly let out a giggle. What was she, twelve???

“Daddy met us at the boat, he said to let you know he’ll join us for dinner tonight.”

Lola had to look at her hands. Lord, all three of them in one room. She’d better go to the club later before she did something stupid like try to seduce one of them.

* * * *

Xavi offered an envelope to Jordi. 

“What is this?” He was confused, especially since Xavi was stood there in his normal clothes and not his uniform.

“A little something I got for you.”

Jordi tore it open, and inside found two tickets to that afternoon’s Chelsea match. “Is for football?”

“For the football,” Xavi confirmed as the young man’s face lit up with joy.

“And we go? Carles say we go?”

“Yes. We have to be back straight after to get ready for the dinner tonight, but we can go.”

Jordi threw his arms around Xavi and laughed joyfully. “WE GO!”

Xavi laughed as he hugged him tightly. “Go and change. We need to leave straight away to get the tube.”

“We take train! Train and football!” Jordi scampered off happily, the prize clutched in his hand.

Andy looked over from where he was enjoying his tea. “If you want to have sex with that kid, today would be the day to go for it.”

“Andy!” Xavi said, blushing brightly.

Andy grinned. “What? He worships you anyway, and now you’ve gotten him something he wants more than, well, anything. He’s grateful.”

“And his thanks is all I need.”

Jordi came thundering back down the stairs. Carles would have a fit if he heard him. “We go!”  
“Got the tickets?” Xavi asked.

Jordi patted his pocket. “I have. And I have money for program!”

“Watch him or he’ll spend all his pocket money,” Andy teased.

Xavi rolled his eyes, but checked his own pocket to be sure he had a few extra coins. Just in case Jordi saw something he liked. He knew they sold football scarves some times and he wanted the young man to have one.

The whole way to the match, Jordi chattered about the game. When he’d realized that the newspapers had articles about matches, he’d been sure to get ahold of Lord Raul’s paper as soon as he was done with it every day. He made Xavi translate for him anything he didn’t understand. Xavi knew more about Chelsea than Jordi did, he wagered.

When they got off at Walham Green, the area was full of people headed for the match. He and Jordi had a pint and a meat pie. They found a blue and white scarf that Jordi wanted and he got his prized program.

The match was a good one. They stood in the Shed End terraces and Xavi had to help Jordi learn all the chants. Chelsea won 2-0 over Sunderland with goals by Wilding and Croal.

All the way home, Jordi had to go over every play, every goal, and laugh about the man next to him who found his accent hilarious.

“Thank you for taking me to the match,” Jordi said as they strolled back to the house. They had a busy night ahead of them, but their happiness over a good day out would see them through it.

“I’m glad I could take you,” Xavi said. “We’ll have to go again.”

“I would like that very much,” Jordi said earnestly. 

When Xavi reached for the back door, turning to pull it open, Jordi leaned in and kissed him quickly before running up the stairs.. It happened so fast that Xavi almost thought he’d imagined it. 

But when he pressed his fingers to his lips, they were still tingling.

 

 

Chapter 84

“There certainly must be more entertainment in London than tea parties,” Clint complained one afternoon as he and Carlos returned from yet another painful visit to the house of a woman with daughters to marry off. They only went because their father insisted it was good for business. The two rich, highly eligible bachelors were the talk of the town. And the more mothers they let think had a chance of hooking one of them for their daughters, the more the fathers were willing to make good deals with Mr. Howard.

“Seriously,” Carlos sighed as he loosened his tie and slumped in the back seat of the car. “If Father would at least let us go to one of the gaming clubs. Respectable people go there!”

“Father is convinced that if we are to be seen as upstanding young men, we must not be seen to have any vices,” Clint repeated their father’s words in mocking tones.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t gotten caught with your hand down the pants of every sexy young stud in New York, he might trust us!”

“Me! You!” Clint accused. “I’m not the one who seduced the mayor’s daughter!”

Carlos waved his hand. “She seduced me, and half of the male population of New York. I’m just the one that got caught.”

“In the cloakroom at the inaugural ball!”

Carlos sighed. In truth, they’d both earned their reputations as play boys in New York. This was not a small part of the reason they were not living in London, helping their father open his new office, and being on a very short leash. 

“Hope had fun in London,” Clint mentioned.

“She had a lot of fun by the state of her,” Carlos grinned wickedly.

Clint laughed. “Perhaps we should go visit our baby sister and see exactly how she managed it!”

* * * * 

“Dr Esteban is amazing,” Fernando said as he flipped through his notes on the Renaissance he’d taken at lecture that day. “We should so go to Italy. Wouldn’t you love to see Florence?”

Sergio, who’d nearly fallen asleep in the lecture gave him a look. “Florence?”

“The center of the Italian Renaissance?” Fernando said. “DaVinci?”

“Oh, sure,” Sergio said. “Yeah.”

“You’re bored in history, aren’t you?” Fernando sighed.

“It’s fine, really,” Sergio protested. “Love it.”

“You do not,” Fernando put his papers down and crossed over to where Sergio sat at his desk, staring at the readings he was behind on. Fernando put his hands on Sergio’s shoulders and laid his head on Sergio’s. “You love accountancy.”

“That makes sense!” Sergio said. “Sums and practical things- I can do that!”

“Then maybe you should drop history. Just focus on accountancy. You know I’m only doing it because it’s interesting to me,” Fernando said.

“But you love history!”

“I do. You’re better at numbers,” Fernando said. “We don’t have to spend every minute together.”

“But I like being with you.”

“I like being with you, too.” Fernando ran his hands down Sergio’s chest.

“I suck at history,” Sergio sighed.

“I like it when you suck,” Fernando purred. “But maybe you can save the sucking for me. In bed.”

Sergio chuckled. “So I can drop history?”

“Please?” Fernando begged, knowing full well he’d just spend his time trying to catch Sergio up rather than getting his own work done. He barely got Sergio to keep up with his accountancy work.

Sergio took Fernando’s hand and kissed it. “Well, if I don’t have to do all this reading, my afternoon has suddenly freed up.”

Fernando pulled back. “Why does study time always turn into sex with you?” he teased.

“Books make me horny?” Sergio tried.

“I thought it made you tired,” Fernando blinked innocently.

“No, sex makes me tired,” Sergio clarified.

“Well, then we better not- you’ve got all that accountancy work to finish.”

Sergio pounced, dragging Fernando toward the bed. “If you let me fuck you I’ll take you to Florence for our winter break.”

“You will?” Fernando’s eyes lit up.

“To be fair, all you have to do is ask me for anything and you can have it,” Sergio leaned down and kissed him, straddling him. 

“Can we stay a month in Florence and tour the Tuscan countryside?”

“Absolutely,” Sergio said as he tipped his hips into Fernando. “Everything you want and more.”

“Can you get up so I can work on my history essay?” Fernando said with a wicked grin.

“Ooops, I was wrong...you can’t have that...”

* * * *

Oriol stepped back and eyed his soufflé. It was crooked, but he had no time to make another. The chicken had to be braised and the soup seasoned.

“It’s fine,” Xavi said, startling the young cook.

“It will have to do,” Oriol sighed.

“Do you want me to finish the chicken?” Xavi asked.

“Sure, the sauce is there,” Oriol pointed as he set the soufflé on the sideboard. “Don’t put too much on!”

Xavi chuckled. “I don’t think I can ruin it. Your food is amazing.”

“I don’t want to get fired,” Oriol fretted.

“I heard Iker complain the other day, that he was going to have to have his trousers taken out because your food is so good,” Xavi said as he carefully spooned the sauce over the chicken.

“They do clean their plates,” Oriol said as he measured the spices into the soup, testing it carefully.

Bojan rushed in. “Where is the red wine? I thought I told you to get more red wine!”

Oriol looked up with a frown. More tarragon. “I don’t think I unpacked it. It’s in the baskets in the pantry.”

“Oh good,” Bojan let out a breath. “I have got to start checking that earlier. How did Carles keep up with that whole manor house? I can’t keep track of Lord Cris and Iker and one baby.”

“The baby doesn’t even move,” Xavi teased. “You’re in trouble when he starts walking.”

Bojan shuddered. “Don’t remind me. Is Jordi setting the table?”

“He is. Lord Iker was saying just this morning that Jordi has been doing such good work.”

“Maybe because you brag about him every day!” Oriol accused as he was satisfied with his soup. Dinner would be lovely.

“I do not,” Xavi said with a grin. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, just don’t let Lord Iker or Cris know that you two...have a thing!” Bojan said.

“We do not have a thing, there is no thing!” Xavi said.

“I saw you kiss him!” Oriol accused.

“When was this!” Bojan asked excitedly.

“When they went to the football game? Remember? They’d been over at Lord Raul’s, helping out, and then they went to the game and came back here? I was going to catch a breath of fresh air and they were all over each other.”

“It was one kiss!”

“So you DO have a thing!” Bojan said happily.

“I’m not talking to you,” Xavi said, blushing entirely too much for his age. “And you better get the wine breathing!”

Xavi ran to check on Jordi, and Oriol and Bojan shared a smile. “It’s very sweet,” Oriol said.

“It is. And if anyone deserves a little happiness, it’s most certainly Xavi.”

* * * *

 

“Cesc....I need to get laid,” Stu complained as he sat down in front of Cesc’s desk.

“Nurse Stu!” Cesc said with a laugh. “We’ll have none of that talk.”

“Oh, you and your happy husband, never mind the glowing mother of your baby,” Stu said.

“Did you check on bed three?”

“He’s asleep. Recovering nicely,” Stu said.

“Did you do your charts?”

“Cesc, you’re so boring,” Stu said. “You’re no fun as the boss.”

“I have all this paperwork,” Cesc said. “I went to medical school to cure people. No one said there were forms.”

“There are always forms,” Stu said. “I’m an expert. Hand them over.”

“You’ll do my paperwork?” Cesc asked with wide eyes.

“Yes, but you have to take me to your step-dad’s club.”

“You want to go to Guti’s club?”

“Would I get laid?”

“You? In five seconds.”

“Then I want to go to Guti’s club.”

* * * * 

“Baby Hope, we’re bored,” Carlos said as he sat down in Hope’s bedroom. She was lying in bed, hand on her enormous belly. She was due in a few weeks and the doctor had confined her to her bed as a precaution after she’d had some early contractions.

“You’re bored!” Hope exclaimed. “I’m the size of a house and my feet have swollen to the size of boats.”

“You’re glowing,” Clint promised her as he climbed into her bed and gave her a hug.

“I’m fat and bored,” Hope sighed, but was happy to have cuddles from her big brother.

“Well if we had fun things to go do with our evenings, we could entertain you with stories!” Carlos reasoned.

“True,” Hope said as they’d already exhausted the tales of what her sisters had been getting up to. In truth, it wasn’t much and it wasn’t interesting.

“So what fun stuff did you get up to,” Clint pressed. “You were so vague in your letters!”

“I had to be!” Hope laughed. “Daddy would have killed me if he knew!”

“Oh, it IS good,” Carlos said. “Tell us.”

“Oh no, you’ll tell Daddy!”

“What would we tell Father that would surprise him? You’re pregnant and unmarried,” Clint teased.

“Hush,” Hope said. “He knows I had sex before I was married. That’s all Daddy needs to know.”

“So how did that happen?” Clint wondered.

Hope whacked him with a pillow. “I am not telling you about my sex life!”

Clint groaned and grabbed the pillow. “Hoooope.”

“Where did you meet Lola?” Carlos tried another angle.

“She was at a party I want to with Daddy when he brought me over last autumn,” Hope said with a smile and a blush. “We were attracted right away.”

“So...how did you end up having sex with Cesc if you’ve been in love with Lola since then?” Clint pressed.

“I’m not telling you about Lola’s club!”

“What club?” Carlos asked. “I didn’t know Lola owned a club? What kind of club.”

“Oh,” Hope moaned. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“What kind of club, Baby Hope?” Clint begged.

Hope sighed. “If Daddy ever finds out about this, I am never speaking to either of you again.”

 

Chapter 85

Danny frowned. “You’d go to the club without me?”

“I wouldn’t do anything with anyone!” Cesc protested. “But Stu wants to go and I said I’d take him. I want you to go too, Danny, but you’re going to Denmark for the week!” Cesc turned his big brown eyes on Danny who was helpless under their power. “I’d wait for you to come back but Stu really wants to go and with the baby coming like any day now, I may not be able to take him if I wait.”

Danny sighed, knowing he was beaten. Cesc had him wrapped around his little finger. “Promise you’ll behave?”

“I won’t leave the lounge,” Cesc vowed as he wriggled against Danny. They were in bed on a cool morning, snuggled together as one.

“Because our firstborn child was conceived in that place.”

Cesc made an adorable pout. “You’d left me.”

“I know,” Danny sighed as he caressed Cesc’s arm.

“Besides, Hope won’t be there!”

“But Lola will,” Danny reminded him.

Cesc frowned. To tell the absolute truth, he’d never had sex with Lola. She was generally there to encourage he and Hope, but he’d never gotten more than a few kisses off the older woman.

Danny misinterpreted Cesc’s pause. “I’m sorry, of course I trust you. I love you.”

“And I love you,” Cesc promised as he snuggled, if possible, closer to Danny. “And just think, I’ll be so horny when you get back you’ll be begging me to take a lover!”

“Not likely,” Danny said as he kissed him. “Not likely at all.”

* * * * 

Lola sat in her usual chaise, an untouched tumble of whiskey next to her, not taking in anything.

She hadn’t wanted to leave Hope, but after fretting all day, Hope had sent her away, insisted she needed to rest and couldn’t do so with Lola hovering.

“I promise I’ll call if anything happens,” Hope vowed. “Even before the doctor.”

“No, call the doctor first,” Lola said. “Maybe we should call him now, just in case.”

“Lola! Hope moaned. “Leave!”

“I’ll look after her, Ma’am,” Alex promised though half wishing Lola would stay. She had no desire to be the one in charge should Hope go into labor. Of course Carles and Juan would be home, and they’d take care of everything.

“Of course you will,” Lola said as she kissed Hope and then Alex on the forehead.

But now she sat, even unable to enjoy the sight of Raul and Fabio flirting shamelessly as they pretended to care what some cabinet minister whose name escaped Lola was talking about. Fabio was forever conscious of his contacts, even here, even with Raul’s hand dangerously high up his thigh. Yes, Lola suspected he’d be Prime minister some day at the rate.

And Cesc was here, his usual adorable self, with Nurse Stu. The young blonde was just Lola’s type, and any other day, she would have been half in his lap by now.

Lola looked at the close. Midnight. Hope would be mad if she came home this early. She had half a mind to go to her office and run through the weekly ledgers. She had Simao managing things for her, and he did very good work, but she liked to keep informed of how things were going. She knew the next few months she was likely to be distracted even more.

And then Carles and Clint walked through the far door.

Lola came to her feet. Across the room, Pepe was immediately on alert, very tuned into this mistress’s moods. He spotted the two and made a move toward them. Lola stilled the hulking bouncer with a look. 

She didn’t expect they were here to cause trouble, but neither did she want to take the blame should Mr. Howard find out they’d been here. Never mind she didn’t think he knew this was where Hope had been living before she’d become pregnant.

“Carlos, Clint,” Lola said as she turned on the full wattage of her hostess charm. “What brings you hear.”

“Lola!” Carlos said as he spotted her. “We thought you’d be home with Baby Hope.”

Ah.

“Well, this is my club,” Lola said as she kissed both men on the cheek. “And I was thrown out for hovering.”

“Are you being a nervous mother to be?” Clint asked with a gleam in his eye which spoke to the mischief they intended to get into.

“I’m worried about my girl,” Lola confided.

“She’s tough,” Carlos assured her.

“I know,” Lola said, remembering the brash your woman who, barely a year ago, had walked up to her with a smile and asked if Lola knew a good place to get a little crazy. “But she’s my girl.”

Clint smiled with brotherly affection. “We’re so glad she has you.”

“So,” Lola said as she slid her arm through Carlos’s. “Let’s get you a drink and you can tell me how you found out about this place and please tell me your father doesn’t know you’re here.”

Clint grinned. “Our father does not know we’re here and we would love to keep it that way.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that,” Lola giggled. She gazed a little too long at Carlos while the bartender made their drinks.

Why did he have to be Hope’s brother? He was so freaking sexy.

However, as Carlos complained about how bored they’d been here in London, Clint’s eyes had fixated on Cesc’s blonde.

* * * *

“Cesc! Who is that guy talking to Lola?” Stu whispered as he downed the rest of his second cocktail.

Cesc looked over with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. “Ooh, which one? Those are Hope’s brothers.”

“Your Hope?” Stu squeaked.

“Yes. They are hot, American, and, as far as I know, single.” Cesc beckoned them over.

“Cesc!” Stu protested as he wanted to disappear into his own skin. He already felt out of place in his stiff, for funerals and weddings only, suit.

“I thought you wanted to get laid!” Cesc replied as Clint and Carlos headed their way.

“I do, but shit Cesc, those are gods!”

“I bet they know how to fuck,” Cesc giggled.

“Cesc,” Clint said as he arrived. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” Cesc said. “Clint, Carlos, this is Stu. He works with me at the hospital. He’s an American, too!”

“Hi,” Stu said, his voice cracking awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you,” Clint said as he looked down at Stu. “Can I get you another drink?”

“Sure,” Stu said as he flushed under the attention.

“You sit,” Cesc said as he got up, leaving a spot on the couch by Stu. “I’ll get drinks.”

Clint sat, leaning into Stu. “So, how do you come to be in London, American Stu?”

Cesc scampered over to where Lola still stood by the bar.

“Cesc, are you playing match-maker?” Lola teased.

“I’m living vicariously through Stu- gawd are those some sexy men,” Cesc sighed as he ordered Stu’s drink.

“Are we being a good boy, Cesc?”

“Very good. My husband is being amazing about the face that your partner is about to give birth to my baby. I am doing nothing to jeopardize that.”

“Good boy,” Lola approved as she, now in better spirits, watched as Raul dragged Fabio away. Another night, she might have invited herself along.

“I see you’re behaving yourself as well,” Cesc said as he watched Lola.

Lola sighed. “I know Hope doesn’t mind, but she’s sitting home about to have a baby. I can hardly enjoy myself as it is.”

“How about we sneak back to the house and check on her,” Cesc said, as keen as Lola to know Hope was okay.

“What about your buddy Stu?”

“I’d say he was in a good hands,” Cesc said as they watched Clint kissing the young man rather wantonly.

“Okay, let me get them a room, first!” Lola laughed. “And if Hope gets mad, I’m blaming you!”

“You usually do!”

* * * *

Raul pushed Fabio into a room and slammed the door. “I thought Carson was never going to shut up.”

Fabio laughed. “I can’t believe he’s here. I’d have taken him for someone more inclined to condemn me for being here than taking part himself!”

“He wants in your pants,” Raul breathed in his ear as he fondled Fabio’s lush ass.

“Mmm, does he?” Fabio asked as he only knew it was true. Half the men in Parliament could be controlled due to their desire for him. It was a careful balance of flirting without alienating. Never mind the added bonus of Raul getting jealous.

“You know he does,” Raul growled as he pulled at Fabio’s clothes. “And you encourage him.”

“How do I do that?” Fabio asked, playing innocent as he reveled in Raul’s anger. The rough treatment made his cock ache.

Clothes flew. “You with your smiles and touches. Your flattery.”

“I’m just being political,” Fabio gave him a pout. “Weren’t you the one that told me that sometimes you just have to bend over and take it?”

“Now he decides to listen to me,” Raul nipped at his shoulder. “If you’re bending over, you better brace yourself.” He thrust Fabio toward the bed, where the blond bent over the footboard, presenting his bare ass.

“You know I love you,” Fabio sighed as Raul disrobed, his hard, heavy cock springing free of his trousers.”

“Now you’re all sweet words,” Raul berated him with a smack on his ass. Save your pretty words for your Parliament whores.” He laid another sharp crack against the pale skin of Fabio’s ass.

Fabio hissed in pain and pleasure as Raul alternately spanked him and worked fingers into his ass. Oh yes....fuck yes.

This was why he and Raul works so well. Smiles and politics all day, hot, dirty sex all night.

Fabio held on as Raul fucked him with all the pent up aggression and desire built up over the evening. Perfectly.

* * * *

“So, American Stu, what are you doing here?”

“Here?” Stu asked as Clint leaned into him, his hand on his thigh.

“At this club.”

“I...uh...”

Before Stu could even think of....anything...Clint had moved in and was kissing him. His hot mouth took full possession of Stu and he completely lost all ability to think as the tongue slashed in, rubbing against his own, setting his senses on fire.

Clint pulled back, and dazed, Stu saw Lola standing over them.

“Can I show you two to a room?”

“Yes, please,” Clint said as he reached out and wiped off Stu’s bottom lip, gazing into the young man’s eyes.

Stu nodded dumbly. Yes. Room. That would be a good idea.

Clint stood, pulling Stu with him, and Lola laid a hand on his arm. 

“Okay?” she asked, searching his eyes to be sure he was willing.

“Yes,” Stu said with a smile. He felt safe knowing that Lola was looking after him. Cesc wouldn’t let him go with...Clint...was that his name?

“Have fun,” Lola said as she gestured for them to follow Simao.

Clint took Stu’s hand, not even looking back as he confidently followed Simao up the stairs. Stu managed not to stumble even as his head spun. Oh lord this was going to be good.

Simao opened the door to a basic room. Bed, low lights, space to fuck.

Clint didn’t even wait for Simao to close the door behind them as he closed in on Stu again. This time Stu did stumble as Clint grabbed his hips and pushed him back toward the bed, taking his mouth again, leaving no mistake as to who was in charge. Clint pressed Stu into the bed, their cocks rubbing together, and Stu moaned low in his throat. Oh god, oh yes.

Clint tugged at Stu’s jacket, and the smaller man quickly shed it off, letting it fall to the floor as Clint stroked his sides and continued to kiss him deeply. Stu fumbled at Clint’s clothes, but the older man managed to disrobe even as he kissed him, hands wandering, making Stu pant with need.

There were no words at all between them, some how making it sordid and everything Stu had come here to find. Clint didn’t speak his needs. He just used his hands. Guiding Stu, now naked, onto the bed, urging Stu to stroke his cock, spread his thighs, give Clint access to every inch of his body. He gave over control and was rewarded with such pleasure as Clint pressed fingers up into him, making him feel things he didn’t even know were possible.

When Clint finally eased his cock into Stu, on all fours, gripping the head board, Stu groaned desperately. Holy shit...this was more than sex, this was surely more than you were allowed. Clint began to fuck him a little roughly, wonderfully. Stu came fairly quickly, but held on as Clint continued to fuck him, taking the punishing thrusts even as he began to ache.

He was going to feel every inch of Clint for days.

And Stu couldn’t wait.

Chapter 86

Warning: Baby overload

 

“Where is this beautiful baby!” Silva demanded the minute he entered the house. Bojan   
struggling to keep up with him and collect his coat.

“Lord Iker is upstairs in the nursery,” Bojan said. “But if...” he started to direct Silva, with an amused Villa following behind to the sitting room, but Silva was already headed for the stairs.

“Do give up,” Villa advised. “He’s talked about nothing but this baby since we left Barcelona.”

Jordi appeared at the top of the stairs, recognizing the Spanish accents. “Mr. Silva!”

“Jordi! Don’t you look well!” Silva said as he took the stairs, two at a time and embraced the maid. “London is treating you quite well!”

“I am very happy here!” Jordi laughed as they spoke in Spanish, Jordi enjoying not having to think before speaking as he so often did with English. “I have friends and we go to see Chelsea!”

“So happy for you,” Silva said. “Your mother is well.”

“Good. She writes me almost every day.”

“Who do you think has been posting all these letters,” Silva smiled. “Now. We will chat properly once I have seen this baby!”

“He’s in the nursery,” Jordi lead the way.

Silva burst through the door and found Iker with Raul-Luis sleeping in his arms.

“Oh!” Silva whispered.

“You’re here!” Iker said, startled.

“I barged in,” Silva said with a grin as he approached the pair. “Oh, look at you so little and sweet.”

“He’s just fallen asleep,” Iker said. “It’s his afternoon nap.”

“Oh,” Silva said, sad. “I just wanted to cuddle him a little.”

Iker shook his head. He shouldn’t, but Silva’s crushed expression made him give in. “Okay, but just a minute.”

Iker passed over the small bundle, and Silva carefully settled the baby in his arms. Raul-Luis snuffled, but didn’t stir. Silva sat on the settee and marveled at the little boy.

“Oh, Iker. He’s gorgeous,” Silva gazed down at the baby.

Villa had collected Cristiano from where he’d been waiting to greet his guest and the two joined them in the nursery.

Jordi scampered to get the tea sent up. 

“I see you made it,” Cristiano teased as Silva was enraptured with Raul-Luis.

“Hi Cris,” Silva said without looking up.

“The moment the letter came, telling us about the baby, Silva had been badgering me non-stop to come visit,” Villa said as he embraced his cousin, Iker.

“I’ve been wanting to visit!” Silva said. “I was sad when you decided to stay here,” he said. “I’d been hoping you’d come back to Barcelona.”

“We do mean to visit,” Iker said. “But not until this little one gets a little older.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Cristiano said. “The moment Raul-Luis is walking, we’ll have another. And another...”

Iker grinned. “I want a lot of babies.”

“Me too,” Silva said with a little pout he directed at Villa.

“I want babies too, Silva, but...”

“But nothing!” Silva said. “We adopt! Look at this little one! We can have one as well!”

“You’re getting no support here, Villa,” Cristiano said. “I was a bit unsure, but I can’t even imagine my world without that little guy.”

Silva sighed. “He wants his own child, not an adopted one.”

Villa didn’t say anything, not wanting to insult Cristiano and Iker. But he did think it mattered. Not that you couldn’t love an adopted child as much as a natural one, but he wanted his own.

“So find a surrogate,” Iker shrugged. “It’s easy enough.”

Villa nodded. “We’re discussing it.”

“Stop discussing and do it,” Iker said. “Or I might have to check Silva’s bags for the baby when you leave.”

Silva kissed the top of Raul-Luis’s head and giggled. “You might.”

* * * *

Xabi sat in the library with Jon in his lap, the little boy having fallen asleep after reading a book with him. The nanny had offered to put him in his bed, but Xabi had waved her away, happy to let the boy sleep.

In truth, he had nothing else to do. The rest of the family was busy, with the new baby to be born soon, and Cristiano and Iker had visitors. 

And he was avoiding Steven. Ever since his wife had confronted him at the wedding, Xabi hadn’t been to see Steven. In notes, Steven had confessed he was busy, but had begged Xabi to meet him in the park. Xabi had been making up excuses, saying Jon wasn’t well. The weather had helped, a rainy September had kept them inside.

Xabi didn’t know what he wanted. He had wanted Steven and nothing but Steven for so long. All of his time in America, even as he wed and Jon was born, he was thinking of Steven. But now there was the guilt of the pain in Steven’s wife’s eyes and the uncertainty of it all. Where had Steven been the weekend of the wedding? Did he have another lover?

And now Xabi knew he didn’t trust Steven. He’d believed, at first, that they had been meant to be together, which seemed to excuse his guilt, but were they really? Was Xabi just holding onto a dream of something that seemed so wonderful just because he couldn’t have it?

The door to the library opened, and Xabi looked up, startled out of his gloom.

“I’m sorry sir,” Sami said as he stood in the door. “I didn’t think there was anyone in here.”

“It’s fine, Sami,” Xabi said as he adjusted the heavy little boy in his lap. “Did you need something?”

“I was just looking for a new book to read, sir,” Sami said as he carefully closed the door behind him. “Lord Guti wants to go shopping and it means a lot of waiting in the car.”

Xabi chuckled softly. “You get a lot of reading done, driving this family around.”

“Not to complain, sir,” Sami said quickly. 

“Not at all,” Xabi said. “Jon and I are reading the latest of this Wizard of Oz series.” He held up the colorful book.

“Are they good?” Sami asked as he took it from Xabi, reading the back.

“For kids’ books, pretty good, actually. Though I think father just got a couple of James Joyce if you’d rather.”

“I’ve read those,” Sami said. “Borrowed them off a friend.”

“I’ve just started The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,” Xabi said. “It’s pretty good so far.”

“I like that,” Sami agreed. “Do you have the first one of these?”

“Yeah, they’re on that bottom shelf. A few of them have sticky handprints, I’m afraid.”

Sami crouched down and selected the first of the series. He’d been reading a lot of difficult, deep texts lately. Maybe something a little lighter was in order.

“I do have to warn you that they have some political undertones,” Xabi said. “Rather like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.”

“I wonder sometimes if these authors think they’re being more subtle than they are,” Sami said as he tucked the book under his arm.

“Some of them do think they’re rather more clever than they are,” Xabi agreed. “Let me know what you think of it.”

“I will sir,” Sami said with a smile. “Thank you.”

 

Chapter 87

Mesut climbed into bed with Sami, snuggling against him. "What are you reading?"

"Mmm?" Sami replied, not looking up from the page even as Mesut's cold feet pressed against his legs.

"Your book," Mesut asked as he looked at the colorful pages. "You don't normally bring your books to bed."

"Oh," Sami said, reluctantly putting his book mark in place. "It's one Lord Xabi loaned me. It's a series called The Wizard of Oz."

"It's got pictures!" Mesut said derisively as he took it from Sami's hands and flipped through the pages. 

"Yes, it's meant to be for children, but there are some interesting political subtexts."

"There's what?" Mesut asked as he looked at the pages and then up at Sami.

"Never mind," Sami said as he took the book from Mesut and laid it on the bedside table. Mesut never cracked a book in his life as far as Sami knew and it was pointless to try and engage him. He turned off the lights and wrapped Mesut in his arms.

Mesut let out a happy sigh and cuddled close.

* * * *

"Oh, I miss Barcelona," Jordi sighed as he and Silva enjoyed a thick cup of hot chocolate in Silva's bedroom. He was supposed to be cleaning it, but Silva had invited him to join him for a cup, and Jordi was helpless.

"Your mum misses you as well," Silva said. "She's over at the house every day with her letters, hoping to have one from you."

"Is she well?" Jordi asked. "You give her the money I send?"

"She is well," Silva agreed. "I helped her find a little flat not far off the Ramblas. She's been working at a fruit stall near the waterfront."

"She said. She told me she wished she could bottle the smell of the oranges that arrive on the boats from the islands," Jordi smiled wistfully.

"I'm so glad the two of you have turned your lives around, like I did," Silva said. "It's so much harder than people think, but the effort is worth it in the end."

"You and Villa are so happy," Jordi agreed.

"I just wish we had a baby!" Silva lamented. "But Villa wants a surrogate but every time we look into it, he says he doesn't trust the person!"

"Oh," Jordi said with a frown. "What about my mum?"

"Your mum!" Silva said, surprised. 

"She had me when she was really young, didn't she?" Jordi said, having always thought his mum looked far too young to be the mum of an 18 year old. "Oh Silva, you know she would. And Villa has to approve!"

"He would!" Silva agreed. Didn't Villa like Kiki? Wasn't he always asking her to stay for supper? Never argued when Silva wanted to pay to send the football magazines she collected up?

Now that he had the idea in his head, he couldn't wait to start. But they were staying in London until Christmas, and that was too long!

"Jordi, how would you like for your mum to come and visit us?"

* * * *

Carles had noticed that Gerard never seemed to leave the house any more. He used to go out every chance he got, to run an errand, but lately he'd not even been going out when he had his free afternoons, sending Mesut with money if he needed something from the shops.

And today he found Gerard sitting with the newspaper closed in front him, empty cup of tea.

Carles was the last person to ask someone how they were feeling, but after months of moping, he felt as though he had to. "Everything alright?"

"What?" Gerard asked, taken out of his stupor. "Oh, yeah. Fine." Said in that way which could only be achieved if things, actually, were not fine, but you said it to placate.

"I'm going to make myself a cup of tea. Would you like one?" Carles offered as he set the kettle on. Andy had disappeared and Juan was out shopping.

"Sure," Gerard said as he passed over his cup. In truth, he did want to talk about what was bothering him, and what better person to talk to than Carles?

"I think the new house is settling in well," Carles began as he turned up the stove. "Sami has eaten over there a few times and he says their cook is quite good."

"I heard," Gerard said. "Andy wasn't best pleased to hear it."

"I know," Carles said, a rare smile on his face. "Apparently Juan is friends with the cook, a young man called Oriol?"

"Friends?" Gerard asked. "I hear they're a bit more than friends."

"Really?" Carles asked. He claimed not to take an interest in idle gossip, but thing kind of thing could not be ignored.

"Juan smiles a lot when he's mentioned," Gerard amended. 

"It'd be nice for our Juan to find a special friend," Carles nodded. "He's not been quite the same since Fernando left."

They left the implications of that unsaid. It had been no secret downstairs that Juan had been in love with their former made for ages, and that love had been unrequited. Never mind the fact that he'd gone on to marry the son of the household and was now off at college.

The kettle boiled an Carles made two cups of tea, even sneaking into Andy's stash of biscuits to pull a few out for them to share.

"How about you, Carles?" Victor said after he thanked him for the tea.

"How about me?"

"I mean, Xavi had Pep, and well, we all know about Jordi. Juan and Oriol. Mesut and Sami. Anyone special for you?"

Carles shrugged, slightly uncomfortable at the personal question. "Bernabeu Hall has always been my first love."

Gerard nodded, not even thinking to mock the older man as he might have in the past.

"Whatever happened with your young man, Victor."

Gerard stilled. And there was the no-I'm-not-actually-fine. "He and I have split."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Carles said earnestly. He'd not known Victor much more than to know who he was when he saw them, but he'd thought he and Gerard were close.

Gerard shurgged. How to tell the tale without telling on himself. "He wanted a job. Here."

"Did he now?"

"Yes," Gerard said. "But he's...he's not cut out for service." 

Not cut out for service was to put it mildly. Victor didn't have a submissive bone in his body. And while Gerard, too, had had his struggles with doing as he was told and not speaking his mind, he knew Victor would never last in the house. It wouldn't be long until he had some new scheme in mind and Gerard had a bad feeling that this time it might cost him his job.

And when the thought of losing his job upset him more than the thought of angering Victor, he knew it was time.

Victor had been more than angry, and even taken to confronting Gerard in the street afterwards, which was why Victor never left the house any more. It had been a month since he'd seen him, and surely he'd given up by now, but the safety of the house made him feel secure and only reinforced he'd made the right decision.

Carles read this struggle on his face and moved his hand over Gerard's. "You are valued here."

Gerard looked up as tears formed in his eyes. 

That was it, wasn't it? All anyone ever needed to know in life is that they were needed and appreciated.

"Thank you."

 

Chapter 88

Fernando made his way to Dr. Villas-Boas's office. He'd been summoned this morning to discuss his progress, and he was in a panic that he might be falling behind. Had he missed an essay? Forgotten about a lecture?

But no, he and Sergio went to all their lectures together. Fernando double and triple checked the assignments to be done so he was sure Sergio did them as well.

If anything, he was falling behind in history, since Sergio had dropped out of it, he was on his own. Once the Accountacy work was done, Sergio wanted to go out and party. He'd hooked up with a group of boys in the next dorm who hosted wild evenings. Their names were Marcelo and David Luiz and they did like to dance.

"Fernando, come in," Dr. Villas-Boas said with a smile as Fernando arrived. 

"Good afternoon sir," Fernando said, years of service making him effortlessly deferential to authority.

"Don't look like that," Dr. Villas-Boas teased. "You're not in trouble, I assure you."

Fernando let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "Sorry. I just..."

"Stop," Dr. Villas-Boas waved a hand at a chair and Fernando sat. "You are doing very well. I've asked you here today to talk with you about your husband."

Fernando's heart sank. "Sergio?"

"He's your husband, isn't he?" Dr. Villas-Boas asked with a grin.

"Yes, yes," Fernando said. "He's working very hard," he lied. 

"Is he?" Dr. Villas-Boas asked kindly.

"No," Fernando said with a slight moan. "If I don't keep on top of him, he doesn't do his work."

"Is it difficult for him, do you think?"

Fernando shrugged. "I think he can do it, and he's even fairly interested in the accountancy. He just has trouble keeping his attention on it. It's like he can't focus on anything for very long."

"It's not an uncommon thing," Dr. Villas-Boas said. "As a matter of fact, some of my colleagues in the Sociology department have been conducting studies on how different people learn differently."

"They have?" Fernando asked, always having assumed that anyone could learn if they took the time to do the readings.

"Yes," Dr. Villas-Boas nodded. "And what I would like to propose is this: you come to meet with me once a week and we can discuss about how Sergio is progressing. I don't want to put him on the spot, making him think he can't do the work, but perhaps if you would share with me what you have noticed, you could in turn better be able to help him."

Fernando nodded with him. "Yes, yes I think that could help. Sergio is very proud. He won't admit he needs help."

Dr. Villas-Boas laid a hand on Fernando's knee. "And we just want to do what's best for him."

"Thank you, Dr. Villas-Boas."

"Please," Dr. Villas-Boas said with a smile. "Call me Andre."

* * * * 

Cesc ran into the room. "OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING."

Raul looked up, startled. "The baby?"

"THE BABY."

Guti stood. "Carles, could you get the father to be a nice large brandy?"

"Yes, my lord," Carles said, hiding a smile as Cesc fairly danced in place.

"LOLA IS WITH HER AND SHE'S IN PAIN! WHY IS SHE IN SO MUCH PAIN!"

Guti bit his lip. "He went to medical college, right?"

Raul grinned. "Cesc, sit. Has Lola called the doctor?" Having been witness to the births of all four of his sons, he knew that this was hardly a time to panic.

"YES."

"Good."

Carles handed Cesc a glass. 

"Carles, could you check and see if the ladies need anything at the moment and then tell Andy to put a hold on dinner? I know it might be inconvenient, but if we could just have something light put out for whoever might come?"

"Of course, my lord," Carles nodded. "I believe Andy has been prepared for just such an occasion." He departed.

Cesc drank unsteadily. "Oh my god, Father. She yelled. Did you hear her yell?"

Guti shook his head. "We had the phonograph on."

"Shall we call Mr. Howard now, do you think?" Raul asked, the picture of calm.

"Oh do," Guti said. "Have him bring the lads. We could use some entertainment this evening. Might as well call Cris and Iker, too."

"Yes, Iker. I need Iker," Cesc nodded like a bobble head doll.

Raul stood to go use the phone in his study. "Let him have one more brandy and then cut him off."

Cesc peered at the empty glass. "Yes. Good idea. Yes."

* * * *

"The baby is coming!" Iker announced to Cristiano even as Bojan was bringing up the first course of their dinner. Silva and Villa had gone to dinner with friends.

"Oh, how wonderful," Cristiano beamed. 

"Father says Cesc needs some calming influences. Shall we go now?"

"It seems a shame to waste this dinner," Cristiano looked forlornly at the pumpkin soup Bojan has just uncovered.

Iker rolled his eyes. "I think Oriol can reheat that tomorrow. Father said Andy would fix something."

"Oh," Cristiano said. "That should be fine." And were there sourdough rolls to go with the soup?

Bojan put the cover back on. 

"Go ahead and let the staff have our dinner," Iker decided. "I'll look in on Raul-Luis. Bojan, can you call Sami to collect us?"

"Of course," Bojan said. Yes, pumpkin soup and sourdough rolls! He carried the tureen back down the stairs.

"Is it no good? Oh my god, it's no good," Oriol wailed as he saw the soup reappear. "Too much garlic. I knew it. Oh my god..."

"Breathe, Oriol," Bojan said. "They've been called away. Lady Hope has gone into labor. Lord Iker says we are to eat the dinner."

"YES!" Jordi cheered as he grabbed a roll. He had been in a giddy mood ever since Silva and Villa had decided to have Kiki come stay with them in London. Cesc knew and excellent surrogacy doctor they were going to see. It was possible they might stay several months. 

Bojan snatched it from him. "Go and see if Lord Iker needs an overnight bag. After their lordships have departed we may eat."

Jordi scampered away as Bojan set the roll back on the plate and went to ring Sami. A baby for Lord Cesc. He smiled a bit sadly.

Oriol sighed as he set the roast on the table. "And I even made the red wine sauce Lord Iker loves."

Bojan eyed it. "I don't think it will go to waste."

* * * *

"Shhh," Nurse Stu said as he held Hope's hand. "You just breathe."

"It hurts," Hope moaned. "Make it stop."

"Just a bit longer," Stu promised. He sat at her bedside, wiping her forehead. Lola had been banished an hour ago when she kept yelling at the doctor for not doing more to help Hope. Stu had been through many child births and until the baby was ready to come out, there wasn't much to do but comfort the mother.

"I don't want the baby, Stu," Hope said desperately. "You just make it go away, alright?"

Stu suppressed a smile. "Now, you don't mean that."

"I do. I don't want it," Hope grimaced as another contraction began.

"Well, let's see how we're doing," said the handsome young doctor named Steve Cherundolo.

"TAKE IT OUT OF ME NOW YOU BASTARD!!!" Hope screamed.

"Looks like we're about ready!" Dr. Cherundolo said with the kind of cheerful smile that could only be worn by a man who'd had more than a few women in labor question his parentage. "You get ready to push when I say."

"Come on, Hope," Stu coached. "You can do this. We're almost there!"

After several more minutes of swearing and pushing, there was a small cry in the room.

"It's a girl!" Dr. Cherundolo happily announced.

"Oh!" Hope said as she laid back, exhausted. "Is she okay?"

"She is perfect," Stu pronounced as Dr. Cherundolo handed over the squalling baby. Stu carefully cleaned her off and wrapped her in a dry blanket. He carried her over to Hope.

"Oh," Hope said again as her eyes filled with tears and her heart swelled up with love. "Look at you, beautiful girl. Welcome to the world."

 

Chapter 89

"Stu, do you want to go get Lola and Cesc?"

"Sure," Stu said as he grinned stupidly. He never ever got tired of seeing those new mothers in love with their babies.

Stu took off his messy apron and set it carefully in Dr. Cherundolo's basket before going into the hall. Mesut was stood, looking apprehensive.

"A girl?"

"A girl!" Stu said, and Mesut ran down the corridor. It was the early hours of the morning, but nearly the entire family was assembled, waiting in the sitting room.

"It's a girl!" Mesut declared happily.

"Oh!" Cesc said as he came to his feet. "Can I see her?"

"Yes!" Mesut said. "The doctor said you and Lola."

Lola was on Cesc's heel as they made their way up the stairs. "A girl! Oh Hope just knew it."

"A girl!" Cesc repeated as they ran, most improperly, down the corridor and into Hope's room. 

Hope looked up, eyes shining. "Oh, she's perfect!"

Cesc peered down at the red, wrinkled little face. "Hi."

The baby made a face.

"Can I?" Cesc asked, eager to get his arms around his daughter.

Hope passed her up, and the baby made a noise, unhappy to be shifted after finding a comfortable place to rest. She soon settled again in Cesc's arms.

Lola climbed on the bed, oblivious of the mess and cuddled Hope. "Well done, you."

"Oh Lola, she's so perfect. Exactly how we said."

"Exactly," Lola kissed her temple. "What are we calling her?"

"Nicola," Cesc said. 

"Why?" Hope asked.

"After King Nicklas!" Cesc replied. "He's the reason everything worked out!"

Lola rolled her eyes, but Hope looked at the little girl. "Yes. Nicola. She's sure to be a princess, anyway."

"She is!" Cesc said. "Her daddy is a prince!"

"This is true," Lola could not argue.

"Can Daddy the prince come in?" Danny asked as he peered in the door.

"Yes!" Cesc agreed and Danny entered, coming to ooh and ahh over the little girl.

"Spoiled," Lola smiled. "That baby will be utterly spoiled."

* * * *

"Why were you meeting with Dr. Villas-Boas?" Sergio asked as Fernando stepped into their room.

"What?" Fernando asked, looking startled. 

There was guilt on his face, and Sergio read it. "He's not your tutor."

"I...needed help with the accountancy work," Fernando stumbled.

"You don't need help with accountancy, you could give the lectures." Sergio accused.

Oh hell, Fernando thought, tossing his mind about wildly for an excuse. He couldn't let Sergio know what they'd been doing. Sergio would be crushed to know that they thought he needed special help.

"You're having an affair!"

"I am not!" Fernando gasped. "What would make you think that!"

"I've seen the way he looks at you in lecture!" Sergio said. "Like you're his tasty little prize!"

"Sergio! That's not fair!"

"Are you denying it?"

Fernando moaned. It was probably true. He'd heard Marcelo joking with Lucas. "Even if he does, you know me better than that! I would never!"

"Then what have you been doing in his office!"

"Work!" Fernando said. "He just wanted to talk with me about the work!"

"He's trying to get into your pants," Sergio screamed.

"Well he's not going to!" Fernando shot back. "And if you think I really would cheat on you, then maybe you're the one with the problem, not me?" Fernando stormed out of the flat, slamming the door behind him.

Tears of frustration fell down Sergio's cheeks. "Oh and congratulations. We're uncles."

* * * *

"Are you sure you want me to come down?" Dr. Esteban asked.

"You're practically family," Raul said. "You've done so much for Cesc. It wouldn't be a family celebration without you."

"Thank you," Dr. Esteban said. In truth, it had been nearly a year since he'd seen most of the family, and he was quite keen to visit and catch up. Never mind he'd love to meet Cesc's little one. He wasn't entirely sure what the situation was with the mother, but Dr. Esteban knew better than to ask prying questions.

"I'll catch the afternoon train and stay the weekend," Dr. Esteban said.

"Sergio and Fernando will be coming down as well. Sami is going to meet them at Paddington."

"Oh, excellent," Dr. Esteban said even as at that moment, a teary eyed Fernando stood in his doorway. "We'll see you then."

He hung up the phone. "Is everything alright?"

"No," Fernando moaned as he stepped. "I'm sorry," he said, wiping his eyes. "Sergio and I fought and I didn't know who to talk to."

"You can always come here," Dr. Esteban said kindly as he put on the tea kettle and offered Fernando a handkerchief.

"Thank you," Fernando said as he used it to dry his eyes. The story spilled out, and Dr. Esteban's expression darkened.

"You need to be careful of Dr. Villas Boas," he said slowly.

"Why?" Fernando asked. Rather naively, he believed that all teachers could be trusted.

"Look, you're an intelligent young man, and I know you love Sergio, but Dr. Villas-Boas is...trouble."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Esteban sighed. "Let's just say Sergio isn't entirely wrong to be suspicious."

"I haven't done anything!"

"I know," Dr. Esteban said. "But Dr. Villa-Boas isn't to be trusted."

* * * *

When Fernando got back to the flat, Sergio was packing a case.

“What are you doing?” Fernando asked as panic seized him.

Sergio looked up and it was clear Sergio had been crying as well. “Hope’s had the baby. A girl.”

“Oh,” Fernando said as he watched Sergio pack a bag, desperate to think of a way to get him to stop. “I’m sorry about Dr Villas Boas. I didn’t know. I thought...I thought he was just being nice and helpful and I...I’d never ever cheat on you, Sergio!”

Sergio nodded as he wedged a pair of shoes in the case. As though Sergio didn’t have ten other pairs of shoes at the London house. “I know.”

“Then why are you leaving me!” Fernando wailed.

Sergio looked up, startled. “Leaving you?”

“You’re packing!”

“To go to London! To see the baby!”

“Oh!” Fernando said. “Oh! Oh yes!”

“Oh baby,” Sergio said as he dropped the shoes and went to Fernando. “No, no I would never leave you. Never.”

Fernando let out a sob and clung to Sergio. “I was...I was just seeing Dr Villas-Boas to try to figure out how to help you. I know you hate studying and he said he could help me help you.”

“Oh Nando,” Sergio said with a sigh. “You have to stop worrying about my studying so much.”

“I want you to do well!” Fernando said.

“I know,” Sergio said. “And it’s not that I don’t appreciate that you do, but maybe you just need to...back off.”

Fernando blinked, confused. “But...I don’t want you to fail!”

“I won’t,” Sergio assured him. “But I got all through school by skipping lectures, skimming textbooks, and writing last minute essays. I’ll get through University as well.”

Fernando frowned. “But...isn’t it easier to study and go to lectures?”

“Maybe for you,” Sergio said. “But I’m just here to be with you and some day help support us. I don’t need top marks. I just need the degree.”

“I’m not writing any of these last minute essays for you,” Fernando warned.

“And I wouldn’t dream of asking you,” Sergio said as he leaned in to kiss him. It was slow, and sweet, and relaxed both of them. 

After a few moments, Sergio pulled back. “No more of that. We’ve got a train to catch!”


	10. Chapter 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family gathers to welcome Nicola

The house was full nearly to bursting with the whole family in residence to greet the new baby. Even Cris and Iker were only sleeping at their own house, spending all their time with everyone else so that the staff had all come over to help.

Cesc had stolen a few quiet moments Saturday afternoon, and was sitting with Nicola in the nursery. Everyone else was having a nap or taking a walk.

"I'm your dad," Cesc was telling the sleeping infant. Cloe sat curled up at Cesc's side, not even seeming to mind that her usual spot in his lap had been taken. "Your mom and I are so excited that you're here with us now. Things might be a little crazy because there's me and your Daddy Danny, and also you have Lola. I'm not sure I'd call her Mom, if I were you. She doesn't seem like a Mom, but she's nice."

The door opened and Bojan appeared with a stack of linens.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," Bojan said as he stopped.

"No, it's fine," Cesc said. "You get on with your work."

Bojan hustled to the other end of the room and stacked the clean linens in the cubboard. 

"Have you met Nicola yet?" Cesc asked as Bojan looked to slip out again.

"Not yet, sir."

"Oh, Bo," Cesc said. "Come her and stop acting like a butler."

Bojan grinned as he came over, taking the space oposite Cloe and peering down at the baby. "Isn't she lovely?"

"Lola reckons she looks a bit like Mr. Churchill."

Bojan snorted at the apt comparison. "I'm sure she'll grow out of it."

"I hope she looks like her mum," Cesc said. "She could end up with this big nose like grandpa."

Bojan grinned. "I'm sure she'll be lovely."

"How's life as a butler treating you?" Cesc asked. "It seems forever since I've talked with you now you've moved out."

"Crazy," Bojan admitted. "I had no idea how many things Carles so effortlessly kept in line all these years. He made me a list when I started and I think it was longer than the Versailles peace accord!"

"He does make it look easy," Cesc agreed. "I'm sure you're doing well."

"I think so," Bojan said uncertainly. "I mean, Lord Iker isn't one to complain, but it seems to be going well."

"Good," Cesc nodded. "I'm glad you got the job. You're a good person, Bo."

Bojan smiled. "Thank you, Cesc."

As Bojan made his way back down to make sure preparations for dinner were being taken care of, he realized he'd moved on from his childhood crush on Cesc. Cesc had a different world, a world that Bojan didn't even really want to have any part of. And it was okay.

* * * *

Dr. Esteban had brought a book with him to read, but he should have realized that the hustle and bustle of this family all together rarely left time to think, let alone enjoy a book. He'd brought he book down with him Saturday afternoon, thinking he might have a moment before the rest of the house emerged from their naps, but Xabi was already in the lounge, his young son scampering about with Cesc's puppy.

"Ah, I see the young mistress of the house is still about," Dr. Esteban said fondly as the dog came over to sniff his shoes. Recognizing the scent, she barked and wiggled. Dr. Esteban crouched down to greet here. "Still spoiled by Master Cesc?"

"Bark!"

"Cesc is talking about getting a house with Danny, and I think Jon will be the most heartbroken if the puppy goes," Xabi said as Jon was jealously watching the puppy lick Dr. Esteban's hand. "I'm sure we'll have to get our own."

"Puppy," Jon agreed. 

"How is the young one?" Dr. Esteban said as he straightened up.

"He grows more every day," Xabi said. "Some days father frowns when I bring him to the family gatherings like this, but he loves the company. He gets lonely with no one to play with."

"I'm sure he'll be happy when little Nicola is up and about."

"I'm sure," Xabi said. "What are you reading there?"

"Oh, this?" Dr. Esteban said. "Nothing good. Just a work from America about sanitary conditions in hospitals."

"Riveting, I'm sure," Xabi teased lightly.

"It's actually not bad for a scholarly work. Though these Americans are rather obsessed with sanitation," Dr. Esteban said. "Imagine washing your hands every time you see a patient. How do they get anything done in a day?"

“That does seem a bit excessive,” Xabi agreed. “I mean, sure, cleanliness is important.”

“Well, yes,” Dr. Esteban said. “Anyway, enough boring from me.”

“No, I find it rather interesting,” Xabi said. “I rarely seem to get to talk about anything serious. I was fair begging the driver to talk to me the other day.”

“Oh heavens, you are bored!” Dr. Esteban laughed. “I can talk to you about my new curriculum on French war strategies, if you like.”

“Please,” Xabi said with a smile.

* * * *

Oriol arrived at Lord Raul's house a bit apprehensively. Andy had been a cook with the family for a decade, and Oriol was nervous about stepping on his toes. But with the whole family in residence this weekend to celebrate the arrival of the baby, Lord Iker had asked them to come over to help out.

“We need potatoes peeled,” Andy said as he dropped a pan in front of Oriol.

“Okay,” Oriol agreed. Potatoes? Didn’t they have a kitchen maid for this kind of thing? But he picked up a knife and began to pare the potatoes.

Andy was hustling around, working on glazes and other things.

Juan appeared, having heard Oriol was in the house. “Hi, Ori.”

“Hey Juan!” Oriol replied. 

Juan hovered, having to jam his hands in his pockets. “What are you doing?”

“Peeling potatoes,” Oriol said and Andy slammed another pan.

Juan frowned. “But...”

Oriol quickly shook his head. He was not going to get in an argument. “How is everything upstairs?”

“Chaos,” Juan said as he grabbed a knife to help. “Poor Lady Hope is trying to rest and everyone is wanting to see her and the little one.”

“Maybe we should take Hope back to our house so she can sleep.”

Juan chuckled. “They’ll only follow. Especially if you take that little one.”

“Are you done with those yet?” Andy asked testily.

“Nearly,” Oriol said. “What shall I do with them?”

“Blanch them,” Andy snapped.

Juan looked over. “What’s up with you, Andrew?”

Andy slammed another pot. “I have to make dinner for twenty people!”

“And Oriol can help. Do you need him to work on the canapes?”

“Can he handle that?” Andy asked, petulantly.

“Maybe if you explain it to him,” Juan placated, though he knew Oriol could do canapes with his eyes closed.

“Fine,” Andy conceded.

An hour later, Oriol was creating a masterful display of canapes, and Andy was grudgingly forced to admit the kid had some skills.

“Andy, can I steal your sou-chef for a moment?” Juan asked as he reappeared.

“Don’t go long,” Andy said. “We need to start the soup.”

Oriol dusted off his hands and followed Juan around into the wine pantry.

Juan pulled him in and kissed him. “You are so sexy making canapes.”

Oriol let out a giggle as he wrapped himself around Juan, getting flour on his trousers. “Juan!”

“Can we get Andy sacked. You could make me canapes every day.”

Oriol kissed him to hush him. He did wish they lived at the same house, but he knew they’d never get any work done if they did.

* * * *

Stu ducked out of Hope’s room, having checked to see the new mother was resting comfortably and nearly crashed into a tall dark and handsome man.

“Excuse me!” Stu said, quickly backing up.

Tim looked down at the luscious blonde. “Are you the nurse?”

“Uh...yes,” Stu said, trying not to stare. He knew this was Hope’s dad, but they’d never been properly introduced. How was this whole family so freaking hot?

“How is Hope?”

“She’s asleep,” Stu said, not moving from in front of the door. “She needs her rest.”

Tim had to hold in a grin at this kid trying to be tough. “Good,” Tim said as he reached out a hand to touch the side of his face. “What about you, nurse, Stu? Do you need to be put to bed?”

Stu’s jaw dropped. Had he detoured into Lola’s club?

“I...”

“You’ve worked really hard this weekend,” Tim said as he licked his lips.

Stu’s body responded. Did he know that Stu had already been fucked by his son Clint? Would he even care if he knew?

“Just my job...sir,” Stu said even as Tim moved in, kissing the side of his face.

Tim took Stu’s lack of protest as assent as he pulled him down the corridor and into his bedroom.

* * * *

“Have you seen the doctor?” Carlos asked Clint under his voice as the party mingled over pre dinner drinks and some amazing canapes.

“Esteban?” Clint asked, wondering where their father was.

“No, the one that is looking after Hope,” Carlos said, nodding toward the man who was talking with Cesc and Raul.

Clint looked over. Well, that was pretty. “Nice.”

“I’m moving in,” Carlos said as he picked up his cocktail, locked eyes with the doctor, and made his way across the room.

Steve Cherundolo had no chance.


	11. Chapters 91-93

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby is born, but things aren't going to be smooth sailing for Cesc and Danny. Jordi's mum has a secret.

Chapter 91

Guti sat back and observed the after dinner conversations. He swirled the brandy in his glass and looked up as Raul came to join him.

"Life is good," Raul kissed the side of Guti's neck.

"Don't say that," Guti said as he leaned into him. "Have you noticed the good doctor seems to have befriended your eldest?"

"Esteban?" Raul asked as his eyes sought out the pair. Xabi and Esteban were engaged in a deep discussion alone in the corner of the room, their heads leaned together. "That's a good match."

"You think?"

"Xabi has been a bit depressed the last few months. I think he's been a bit lonely." Raul didn't comment on the fact that he was fairly certain his son had been having an affair with a married man. Thankfully, it seemed to have ended.

"Yeah, but Esteban? Do you think he knows...?"

"Everyone has a right to their secrets," Raul said with a wave of his hand. "If and when Esteban cares to share his is up to him."

"Even that he likes kinky threesomes?" Guti muttered.

"Even that," Raul said. 

Guti gazed at Raul for a moment. "You don't have any secrets, do you?"

Raul didn't meet his eye. "Everyone has secrets, Guti."

* * * *

"So, Steve," Carlos asked as he leaned into the doctor. "Do you specialize in women?"

"Women?" Steve asked, wondering why this gorgeous man was so interested in him.

"Babies and all that," Carlos said. "You spend a lot of time between women's thighs?"

Steve blushed. Was this how Americans flirted? He had been born in American and lived there for many years, but when he was a teen, his parents had moved to Germany. During the war, the family had escaped to England where he'd been living ever since. He didn't have much experience around Americans. It was overwhelming.

"I specialize in maternity and childbirth, yes."

"I meant recreationally," Carlos said as his whiskey breath caressed Steve's face.

"I should check on Hope," Steve said as he jumped up so suddenly he nearly knocked Carlos off his chair.

Across the room, Clint burst out laughing as he watched Steve all but run from the room. Still chuckling, he made his way over to Carlos who was finishing off his drink.

"He seems nice." Clint was merciless.

"Fuck off," Carlos muttered.

Clint patted him on the knee. "Can't win them all."

Even as he said it, Carlos knew that this was far from over. He wanted the handsome doctor, and he would have him.

Then he saw something that made him grin. "So, uh, Clint. How are things going with Nurse Stu?"

"Uh," Clint said as he looked around for the blond and found his father whispering in the young man's ear. "What the fuck?"

"Uh oh," Carlos said, his eyes glinting gleefully. "Looks like you may have some competition."

"You don't suppose Stu...will tell Dad he knows us?"

"Oh," Carlos said as the smile slid away. They'd managed to keep their escapade at Lola's club to themselves, but Nurse Stu didn't know he wasn't meant to know. And from the look on Stu's face, he'd have told Tim the state secrets if he knew any of them.

"I suppose maybe he doesn't want Dad to know he knows us, either," Clint said with a sigh.

"We're never, ever getting laid again, are we?" Carlos asked.

"No."

* * * * 

The party was finally winding down as the family headed to bed; Iker and Cristiano had said their farewells and Carles was stifling a yawn as he made sure the front door was properly locked.

However, just as he finished the last bolt, there was a frantic knocking at the door.

Who is heavens name could this be, Carles thought as he unlocked the door.

"Telegram sir. Urgent. For Prince Daniel of Denmark?"

"Thank you," Carles said as he accepted the missive. 

The man didn't move from the step.

"I need to escort the Prince back to the embassy at once," the man said, and Carles noticed the car and armed guard standing on the street.

It was on the tip of Carles's tongue to demand what in heavens name could require this much fuss at this hour, but his breeding kicked in and he allowed the messenger to step in.

He set the telegram on a silver tray and made his way up the stairs. Danny and Cesc weren't in their room, and Carles located them in Hope's room, whispering over the sleeping baby.

They looked up a little guiltily- obviously the doctor had told them to leave her alone and let Hope and the baby get their rest. They'd barely gotten Cesc to the dinner table as it was.

"An urgent telegram, your highness."

Danny frowned and squeezing Cesc's hand, followed the butler into the corridor. "The man says after you read it, you must go to the embassy at once," Carles told him, standing back and leaving Danny to read the telegram.

Danny tore open the telegram and what he read nearly caused him to faint. He moved back to the door of Hope's room and motioned for Cesc to join him.

"What is it?" Cesc asked, worried at the ashen expression on Danny's face.

"King Nicklas has been shot," Danny said tearfully. "He's not expected to survive."

"Oh my god," Cesc breathed as he moved to embrace Danny. "Oh my god."

Danny allowed himself a moment to be held, and then pulled back. "I have to go to the embassy."

"I'll come," Cesc said. "Carles..."

"I will inform your father," Carles said.

Danny and Cesc flew down the stairs and met the messenger at the door. They were led to the car which sped off into the quiet London night.

"If he dies..." Cesc said, fearful of the answer.

"Then I am king," Danny said quietly. He'd been the third son, sure he was nothing more than a spare, but his second brother had died of the flu, and now this!

Cesc didn't want to think what that meant for them. "Who would have shot him?" He asked the easier question.

"I don't know," Danny sighed. "Nicklas is so careless some times. He befriends one world leader without considering the consequences."

"Gives free shipping rights to a rich American so his little brother can marry his lover?" Cesc reminded him.

"Exactly," Danny sighed. 

He didn't want to be King. He wanted to stay in England and raise Nicola with Cesc and Hope.

 

Chapter 92

“Mum!” Jordi called out, running across the entry hall most inappropriately, but it had been months since he’d seen her and he flung himself into her arms.

Bojan was trying to do his best imitation of Carles looking stern, but Jordi’s joy was so complete, Bojan couldn’t commit to it.

“Oh Jordi,” Kiki said as he embraced him tightly. “You look so well. And smart in this uniform!” She stood back to examine him with pride.

“Mum!” Jordi blushed. “You have to meet my friends. This is Bojan. He’s the butler.”

“Ma’am,” Bojan said formally for he knew Jordi’s mum was a guest of Mr. Villa and Mr. Silva.

“Is Xavi around?” Jordi asked, linking his arm through his mum’s. “You have to meet Xavi!”

“Xavi is making sure Miss Kiki’s room is prepared,” Bojan said. “I’m to take her though to meet Mr. Villa and Mr. Silva upon her arrival.”

Jordi frowned, but Kiki patted his arm. “I am here to see them.”

“I know,” Jordi said, disappointed. However, he didn’t let go as they followed Bojan to the sitting room.

Bojan opened the door and announced Kiki.

“You made it!” Silva stood to greet her. “How was your journey?”

“Wonderful,” Kiki said as he kissed her cheek. “You really didn’t have to send me first class.”

“Of course I did,” Silva said cheerfully. “You’re going to have our baby!”

“Silva!” Villa said, slightly scandalized at his words. You just didn’t talk about baby making in polite company.

“Hush,” Silva said. “Sit sit!”

“Shall I have the tea sent up?” Bojan asked.

“Please,” Villa said.

Bojan looked pointedly at Jordi who began to pout. 

“But I...”

“Go,” Kiki said. “We’ll catch up soon. I promise.”

Jordi slouched off.

“Oh,” Silva frowned. “He could have tea with us.”

Villa sighed. “Silva, he’s the maid.”

“I know,” Silva said. “But he’s still my friend.”

“I’m so grateful to you for giving him this chance. He looks so well,” Kiki said. 

“They say he’s done remarkably well adapting. His English is coming on nicely.” Silva said. He glanced at Villa. Bojan had gone to see to Kiki’s cases. “Can we talk about babies now?”

Villa sighed. “Yes.”

“Babies,” Silva said happily.

“Let’s start with one?” Kiki suggested. 

Villa was frowning. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Miss Kiki, but how old are you?”

“Villa!” It was Silva’s turn to be embarrassed.

“I’m simply saying that if she’s got a son who’s eighteen, she’s maybe past her years of having children.”

“She had Jordi when she was young!” Silva said, turning to Kiki for confirmation, but her eyes were troubled.

“To answer your question, Mr. Villa. I’m 25.”

“You’re....what?!” Silva said as he did the math.

“I’m twenty-five. Jordi’s my younger brother, not my son.”

* * * *

“I take it your mum has arrived?” Xavi asked as Jordi danced around the kitchen, loading up the tea tray and selecting the very nicest treats to arrange on the tray.

“She has!” Jordi said. “But Bojan is being all butler and says you have to wait to meet her. When she goes upstairs we can sneak up the back.”

Xavi shook his head. “We’ll wait to be invited.”

“Xavi,” Jordi protested. “It’s my MUM, not some fancy lady! A year ago we were living in one room in the not nice end of Barcelona.”

“I know, but today she’s the guest of the house and we are the servants,” Xavi gently reminded him. “I’m sure I’ll meet her soon enough.”

“I know,” Jordi said. “But you’re my best friend!”

Xavi smiled warmly as he watched Jordi navigate the stairs with the tea tray balanced.

Oriol, who’d been thinking about dinner, looked up from his recipe cards. “Your best friend?”

Xavi blushed. “We’re just friends.”

“Has he kissed you again?” Oriol pressed. 

“No,” Xavi said, though in truth, it was only through Xavi’s avoidance that nothing more had happened. He’d taken Jordi to another football match a few weeks ago, but other than that, tried to be sure that the two were never on their own. He did like Jordi, a lot, but Jordi was just a kid, and Xavi was too old.

“You are not too old for him,” Oriol commented, reading his thoughts perfectly.

Xavi sighed. “Maybe not, but do you really think he’s going to stick around here forever? His mum is going to have a baby for Mr. Villa and Mr. Silva, and then what? Jordi will go home and work for them, or maybe even get out of service.”

“He might stay if he had reason to.”

* * * *

By the time Danny arrived in Denmark, Nicklas had improved. He was still very weak from the two gunshot wounds to the chest, but the doctors were cautiously optimistic.

“Come to check if I’m dead yet?” Nicklas teased.

Danny came to his bedside, worry creasing his face as he looked down at his usually lively older brother looking pale. “You can’t die on me, you know?”

“Why’s that?” Nicklas asked. 

“Because I just became a father and I don’t think the mother would be willing to move to Denmark.”

“Don’t be silly,” Nicklas said. “She’d be raising a princess. You could make her a Duchess. Everyone wants to be royalty.”

Danny didn’t say it, but Nicklas was wrong. He wanted anything but to be royalty. “Would you hurry up and have some heirs so I don’t have to be next in line?”

“Ah, the doctor thinks maybe the heir-making might have to be delayed a bit,” Nicklas joked.

“Nothing’s stopped you before,” Danny replied, glad to see his brother in good sprits.

“His Highness needs rest,” said the doctor.

Danny nodded. “You get better, okay?”

“Alright.”

Danny left his brother to the care of the herd of anxious doctors and retired to the next room where the herd of anxious government ministers was waiting. Danny desperately wished Cesc had come with him, but has told Cesc no, that he should stay and see to Nicola. 

“Your highness,” as man Danny faintly recognized said and approached. “I am Michael Landrup, your brother’s chief advisor.”

“Oh, yes,” Danny said, as he now placed the man. In truth, Danny suspected he ran the government, which was a good thing considering Nicklas’s, well, unreliability.

“I need to speak with you privately?”

“Sure,” Danny said and let himself be lead to an antechamber.

“We are hopeful of his majesty’s recovery,” Michael began.

“That’s what the doctor said.”

“However, we also need to discuss the matter of who has committed this crime.”

Danny started. He hadn’t even considered this. “The person has not been caught?”

“Yes. It was a young man who the guards shot and killed on the spot.”

“Oh, well, then what’s the problem.”

“We believe the young man was an assassin. And that he was hired by the American businessman, Tim Howard.”

 

 

Chapter 93

Stu needed to get to work. He’d been at the Bernabeu house for a week, ostensibly to look after Hope and baby Nicola, but mother and baby were fine, and his supervisor was disgruntled that he’d not been back to the hospital.

No, the real reason he’d not been in to work was lying next to him in the bed. After being all but accosted in the corridor by the imposing older man, Stu had given himself over to him. When he’d realized that he was Clint’s father, Stu had been mortified, but Clint had made no indication that he knew Stu at all, apparently keen to keep his visit to the club a secret. And so Stu let himself be thoroughly, repeatedly, fucked by Tim.

With a yawn, Stu moved to get up, and an arm snaked around his waist.

“Where are you going?” muttered a sleepy voice.

“I have to go to work,” Stu said with little conviction.

The arm tightened and pulled Stu against a warm, firm body. “No.”

With a smile Stu let himself be cuddled. “I’ve not been in a week. My supervisor said I had to report in today or be sacked.”

“Quit,” Tim said as he nuzzled Stu’s neck. “I’ll take care of you.”

Stu let out a chuckle. Wasn’t that a heady thought? Who wouldn’t love to be the plaything of a gorgeous, rich, man?

“I’m serious,” Tim said even as his cock pressed up against Stu’s sore backside. “I’ll take care of you.” 

Stu closed his eyes. Could he do that? Just give up everything and live here with Tim?

Tim’s persuasive abilities pressed up into Stu as the young man willingly allowed and adjusted for the invasion. What if this was all he had to worry about?

He groaned as Tim began to fuck him, slow, shallow stabs was all their positioning allowed, but Stu bit his lip and closed a hand around his cock. Did you need anything else for happiness?

There was a knock on the door. “Mr. Howard?”

Tim swore under his breath even as he continued to fuck Stu. “Go away.”

There was a moment’s pause and then another knock. “Mr. Howard, it’s the police, they want to speak with you.”

Stu’s eyes flew open as the orgasm he’d nearly found escaped him. “The police?” he gasped.

“I said go away!” Tim growled. “I’ll be down in a minute!” he amended to keep the overly keen butler at bay. 

He redoubled his efforts fucking Stu, and the blond quickly found where’d he’d left off, managing to cum just as Tim finished, though he was almost immediately abandoned.

Stu wrapped the covers around himself as Tim got out of the bed. “What is it?”

“I haven’t a clue,” Tim said as he found clothes to drag on, abandoned the night before.

Stu fretted, not sure what he should do. Did he go to work? Wait for Tim?

Once he was reasonably put together, Tim paused and looked at Stu.

“You, stay right here,” he ordered as he leaned over to kiss Stu. “I want you right there when I get back.”

Stu nodded, eyes wide.

Tim smiled at him and then departed.

As Stu cuddled back down in the bed, he let himself enjoy it. Maybe it was stupid of him, but he was going to do it. How could you say no when all that was required of you was to be fucked and stay in bed?

* * * *

Jordi was so happy, Xavi thought as he watched the young man scamper about, cheerfully ironing the sheets and dusting. All he wanted out of his life was his family, his friends, and his football. 

As he felt the eyes on him, Jordi looked up and gave Xavi a grin. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Xavi said back, laughing. “This quilt needs to go up to Kiki’s room. Would you like to take it?”

“Yes!” Jordi said as he abandoned his ironing and grabbed the quilt.

Xavi chuckled to himself as he rescued the sheets from burning. It was impossible to be angry with that kind of joy.

Jordi took the back steps two at a time as he made his way up to the second floor where Kiki’s room was. Jordi just loved the idea of his mum with her own little suite, being treated like the queen Jordi had always thought she was. Hadn’t she taken care of him his whole life? Even when he had done stupid things and gotten himself in trouble?

As he was about to burst into the room, he heard voices. When he recognized Silva’s, he paused, leaning in to listen to be sure he wasn’t interrupting anything important.

“You have to tell him, Kiki.”

“But what does that solve? I raised him. He’s my son.”

Jordi’s heart leapt into his throat. Tell him what?

“I know, but you don’t have to keep him safe any more,” Silva gently said. “It’s not like before when you had to say he was your son to keep the authorities from taking him. You’re both safe here. You can just be his sister. You can have some babies for Villa and I, and we will raise them, and you’ll be looked after and you know I’ll make sure Jordi is looked after.”

Jordi’s jaw dropped. Kiki wasn’t he’s mother? She’d lied to him all these years? How could she have done that? Why did she lie to him?

Blinded by tears, Jordi stumbled back down the stairs, dropping the quilt and crashing back down into the laundry room.

“Jordi!” Xavi asked, alarmed. “What’s happened?”

Jordi let out a strangled sob and Xavi caught him. “She’s not my mum!”

“What?” Xavi asked, alarmed as Jordi sobbed on his shoulder, struggling to find words.

“She...she lied. She’s my sister, not my mum!”

“Oh,” Xavi said as he began to stoke Jordi’s back. “Why?”

“I don’t KNOW,” Jordi wailed even though he’d heard her explanation. She’d lied to him. His mum...Kiki, whoever she was... “She was the only one who never lied to me. I could always trust her and my whole life...it’s a lie!”

Xavi was a bit confused, but he didn’t ask any questions as Jordi cried. He wasn’t sure how great a betrayal this really was, but he could tell the young man was devastated by it.

And he couldn’t ignore how good it felt to have him in his arms.

* * * *

Fabio stepped into Jose’s office, a bit harried after the afternoon he’d had. So many meetings. The League of Nations was taking up so much of his time, but it was so exhilarating, all of the good work that could be done with such an international peace initiative.

“Cup of tea?” Jose offered as soon as he saw Fabio.

“Oh, yes please,” Fabio said as he sat down with a weary sigh.

“Did you meet with the prime minister today?”

“No. We’re having drinks later,” Fabio said, a smile on his face. It was rumored that he was going to be asked to be the British representative to the new Assembly to be formed.

Jose poured the tea in silence. Once he had handed it over, he took a chair next to Fabio and measured his words carefully. “I’ve had a conversation with the Prime Minister, today.”

“Oh?” Fabio asked, sensing there was big news.

“He’s had another candidate for the representative to the assembly put forward to him.”

“He’s...what?” Fabio asked, setting down his tea even before taking a sip.

“You have to understand politics, Fabio,” Jose began.

“Who? Who fucking is it? This is mine, Jose. I’ve worked so hard for this. No one else is half as involved as I am.”

“In politics,” Jose continued, “there are debts to be repaid. It’s not always about who the most qualified person is.”

“Who!”

Jose met his eyes, seeing their anger. Knowing it was about to get worse.

“Raul Meireles.”


	12. Chapters 94-98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordi learns the truth about his mother and a party of Brazilians livens up life at the club.

Chapter 94

"Xavi have you seen Jordi this afternoon?" Silva asked as Xavi served the afternoon tea. Silva had been surprised to see the house keeper appear with the tray as Jordi had been just about under foot since Kiki had arrived in London.

"He's helping Oriol with the dinner," Xavi truthfully reported. As a matter of fact, Jordi had volunteered to peel potatoes, something he always balked at to avoid taking up the tea.

"Can you let him know we'd like to speak with him?" Silva asked.

"If his schedule permits," Villa said, aware that Iker had commented just the other day that the lines between family and staff were getting rather blurred in the house. As guests, VIlla was keen to not rock the boat, and even had suggested that if Silva and he were going to be staying for a bit in London, that perhaps they should get their own place. Iker wouldn't hear of it.

"Of course," Silva quickly added. He looked at Kiki, who appeared troubled. Something was up that Jordi wasn't here.

Xavi poured the tea and departed. Silva took Kiki's hand. 

"He knows," Kiki said shortly. "I don't know how, if he's overheard, someone told him..."

"I didn't!" Silva quickly said, though he'd all but had to beg Kiki to agree to tell him.

"He knows," Kiki said as she rose from her seat. "I've got to go talk to him."

"He'll come to us when he has time," Villa said, meaning to put her back in her seat, but only earned himself a glare.

"Jordi is my whole world," Kiki said. "And it's going to take a lot more than your social code to keep me from him if something I have said or done has hurt him."

* * * *

Esteban read the latest letter from Xabi a second time, pouring over the contents like a man starved. Xabi was so eloquent, though speaking of nothing more than a novel he'd read and how Jon was learning his words. It was just so lovely to have a correspondent with things to share and a way of telling about them that made them so interesting.

Gazing out the window, he saw that pack of boys that Sergio had taken to hanging out with sitting under a tree on an unseasonably warm November day. He envied their easy companionship.

In truth, Esteban was lonely. About all he had to look forward to in his days was meeting with a few bright students such as Fernando, and letters from Xabi. He didn't make friends easily, and while his colleagues respected him, he'd made no lasting bonds.

There was a conference in London in two week's time on some new medical breakthroughs. It wasn't exactly in Esteban's area, but he was thinking perhaps he could go. Spend a long weekend in London.

See Xabi.

* * * *

"Where is Fernando!" Marcelo complained as Sergio joined the group and produced a flask of whiskey.

"Studying," Sergio sighed. "I know he takes his work seriously, but exams aren't until after Christmas."

"Exactly," David Luiz said with a nod, his wild curly hair which drove the professors mad sponging.

"Even Kaka came out this afternoon," Marcelo teased as his roommate sat, his face toward the sun, not even a book at his side.

"When God shines the sun on England, you stop and take notice," Kaka replied, not even annoyed at the teasing implied.

"Where's Lucas and Oscar?" Sergio asked as he took a drink and passed the flask over to Marcelo.

"They're up to something," David said, as his boyfriend Oscar had thrown him out of the room and told him not to come back until after dinner. "Hopefully fun."

"Not too fun, I hope," Kaka said as Lucas had nearly gotten himself expelled last month for an incident including fireworks.

"Who can tell?" David shrugged as he took a pull of the flask. "They said to come by after dinner and to bring the whole crowd."

"Excellent," Sergio rubbed his hands together. "I'll make sure Fernando comes as well."

* * * *

"I feel like I've been shot," Nicklas said, not even opening his eyes as Danny squeezed this hand.

"You have been, big brother," Danny said kindly. Nicklas had made a better than expected recovery over the past two weeks, and the doctors thought he was going to make it.

"Have the bastard beheaded," Nicklas said with a sigh. "Twice."

Danny chuckled. "We're working on it."

In truth, they'd made very little progress on that front. After Michael had told Danny of their suspicions, Tim Howard had been pulled in for questioning but nothing had come of it. All they had was suspicion, and Mr. Howard was a powerful man. A phone call the the Prime Minister and the Danish request to have him extradited to Copenhagen was politely declined.

Danny left Nicklas to rest. He found Michael in his office. "Tell me good news," Danny sighed as he laid down on the couch."

"The holiday market opens in two weeks? You get to give a speech and sample all the treats?"

"I like that," Danny said with a halfhearted smile. Actually, Cesc would love that. In truth, he was painfully missing Cesc. He got letters nearly every day. Cesc telling every detail about little Nicola. Danny wanted nothing more than to cuddle their daughter and fall asleep with Cesc in his arms.

But it might be months for Nicklas to be back on his feet, ready to take on his duties again. Months for Nicola to grow and change.

Months without Cesc.

Danny sat up. "If we can't get Tim Howard to Denmark, might it help if I went to London to talk with him. He's family."

"Yes, and that's why this is a very bad idea," Michael said, his handsome face clouded. 

"That's what makes it a good idea. I could chat with him, look into his eyes and see if there's anything there. Guilt."

"Or," Michael said, "he has a chance to kill you as well!"

"He's not going to kill me under the same roof as his daughter and granddaughter!" Danny protested.

"Perhaps he wants you out of the way," Michael said.

"Why would he?" Danny protested. "He's the one who helped arrange for me to be with Cesc!"

Michael sighed. "I still think it's a bad idea."

"I'm the only one who could get close," Danny pressed. "We can't just let him get away with this!"

Michael couldn't disagree. "Mostly, though, you want to see Nicola and Cesc."

Danny smiled. "I miss them."

"I know," Michael said. "But you're in charge here now."

"No I'm not. I sit here while you do the work," Danny said. "You're in charge."

Michael shrugged. It was only true. He'd been an advisor for the former king, and when Nicklas had taken over, he'd been meant to advise him how to be king, but had mostly found himself taking care of the day to day tasks and talking Nicklas out of following as many of his whims as possible. Though when Nicklas wandered off to London and promised Mr. Howard tax-free shipping rights, there wasn't much to do but try to clean up after him.

"Two weeks," Danny begged. "I'll be back to open the Christmas markets."

"Alright," Michael agreed.

* * * *

"Jordi," Kiki asked softly as she found him holed up in an empty bedchamber, unopened football magazine in his lap.

Jordi looked up at her, pain in his eyes.

"Jordi, baby, I'm sorry," Kiki said as she crouched in front of him. "I never ever lied to to hurt you, please know that."

"You lied," Jordi said. "You said you'd never lie to me."

"I know," Kiki said as she started to cry. "I know I said, and I never did. Never other than this."

"Why?"

"I had to," Kiki said. "Our mother was dead. I was barely nine years old. I had to protect you. Thankfully I looked old for my age, and no one really questioned me. Mum had been ill since right after you were born. I raised you. You are my son in every important way."

"Would you have ever told me?" Jordi asked, his heart ready to forgive.

"I don't know," Kiki said honestly. "Jordi, you've been my whole world for eighteen years. So I'm your sister not your mother. It doesn't mean I love you one bit less."

Jordi nodded and he reached for her. "Don't lie."

"Never again, my love. Never again."

* * * * 

Raul sat in his library, his head in his hands.

Why was he so weak? Why didn't he stand up to his father? He was twenty-six years old and his father ran his life. He was a father and had been a husband, and yet he still let his father run his life.

When his father told him he was putting him forward for a new position in the government, Raul hadn't even asked what it was. He'd show up, someone would tell him what to do, and he'd do it, not even caring if he did it well. His father's name an reputation would keep him from being sacked until someone got tired of Raul messing things up and he'd move on to a new position.

No, Raul cared for nothing but being with Fabio and his sons. He went to work mostly because Fabio worked so hard and he had nothing else to do with his day.

But his father hated Fabio. Always had. His father was a rival of Fabio's mentor, Jose Mourinho, and Raul should have known. Should have known his father would find a way to break them up, and if it meant ruining Jose as well, more the better.

So when Fabio had stormed in here, eyes blazing, demanding to know what the hell he was thinking putting himself forward for the position that Fabio had been working so hard to achieve, he had no response.

No excuse for himself or his self centered weakness.

And now Fabio was gone. 

And he had nothing left.

Looking at the revolver in the open desk drawer next to him, Raul wondered if maybe that wasn't just the best solution for everyone.

 

Chapter 95

Danny arrived in London on the late ferry and found Cesc standing on the docks, in the freezing cold, bouncing up and down.

The moment Danny stepped off the ferry, his omnipresent guard around him, Cesc rushed forward, startling the guard who stepped to block Cesc's path.

"Hey!" Cesc protested.

"It's my husband," Danny said dryly as the man grappled with Cesc.

"Oh," the man released Cesc suddenly and Cesc stumbled. "Sorry your highness."

Cesc gave the man a glare as he stepped aside and Cesc finally got to Danny. He squeezed him tightly. "Missed you."

"Missed you too," Danny said, trying not to get emotional in front of the guards and failing miserably.

"Oh my gosh, you've missed everything. Nicola has grown so much. Hope is up and about again and she and Lola have been making father insane."

Danny chuckled as Cesc began to speak, sliding his arm around his husband and holding him close. Why couldn't he just stay with Cesc forever?

* * * *

"I can't believe you unpacked my books," Fernando grumbled as he checked his reflection in the mirror. They were headed out to dinner with their friends who had all come down to London for a weekend, and Sergio had insisted that Fernando was going to have fun the whole weekend.

"Because I know you would have spent the afternoon reading instead of resting and then fallen asleep on me before we even made it to the club tonight!" Sergio teased as he kissed Fernando on the cheek. "Besides, you read that book on Chinese trade routes already."

"I know, but I have that paper to start next week," Fernando reminded him.

"And you could already write the paper with your eyes closed," Sergio said. "Besides, even Dr. Esteban said you studied too much."

"He did not," Fernando pouted. "He simply said that I was the most well read student he had."

"Exactly. He called you a nerd."

Fernando blushed. "I just want to do well."

"And I want to get laid by my hot husband." Sergio wrapped his arms around Fernando. "We have this argument every day. Can we not? Just this weekend?"

"I'm sorry," Fernando sighed. He leaned into Sergio for a moment. "Do you think it's a good idea to take the lads to the club?"

"Just because Lucas and Oscar brought a goat in to the dormitory last week doesn't mean they'll do something crazy like that tonight!"

* * * *

Raul walked into his father's office, with a renewed sense of purpose. After a maid had stumbled in on Raul, contemplating suicide, he'd forced himself to reevaluate his life.

The reason his father had put him forward for this position, the reason that Fabio had left him, the reason everything was wrong in his life was because he never had been able to stand up to his father.

And that was going to change today.

"Father, can I speak with you?"

"No time!" his father boomed, getting out of his chair. "We've got to get over to see the Prime Minister. I think he's going to offer you that position with the League of Nations today."

"That's what I wanted to speak with you about," Raul said. 

"It can wait," his father reached for his coat.

"No it can't." Raul's voice was loud and firm despite the terror he felt at this confrontation.

His father finally paused to look at him. "Please don't tell me this is about that damn lover of yours. You cannot let that..."

"This is about me," Raul cut him off, gathering strength. "This is about you putting me forward for a position that I don't even want. That I am utterly incompetent to do. This is about you running my life for twenty-five years and I've had enough of it."

"Raul, today is not the day for you to have this little fit," his father said condescendingly.

"Today is the day. And this isn't a fit. This is me telling you that I don't want this position. I don't want any position you want to put me in. I'm done having you tell me what to do!" Raul was yelling now.

His father gave him a look that normally put him in his place, but Raul wasn't having it today.

"I'll take away your allowance. Maybe you can move in with your lover, but do you really think he's going to support you and your two children while you do nothing?"

"I don't want your money," Raul said. "And I don't need him or anyone to take care of me. I'll find work. The children have their mother’s money. I don't need you."

His father's eyes narrowed. "If you walk out of that do, you are cut off. Forever."

"I don't care," Raul said. "Yesterday I thought my life wasn't worth living any more. And I was right. That life wasn't. This life is."

And Raul turned and walked out of the room.

* * * *

"I'm so glad you decided to stay with us," Xabi said as he and Esteban finished their after dinner drinks. The house was quiet with Sergio and Fernando out to dinner with friends and Raul and Guti off at the club.

"Thank you for having me," Esteban's heart was beating quickly. He and Xabi were sat on the sofa fairly close to one another. He'd had too much wine at dinner and his head was light. He could smell Xabi at this distance. All the masculinity of him was making Esteban struggling to keep his self control.

Xabi licked his lips. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” Esteban said. He wondered if Xabi’s beard was as soft as it looked.

“I’ve only been in love once in my life.”

“Oh,” Esteban said as he began to retreat, but Xabi reached out and laid his hand on Esteban’s.

“Listen,” Xabi said. “I’m just...I...”

Esteban waited, his body coiled. He wanted Xabi. He wanted him like he couldn’t ever remember wanting any one...ever.

“His name was Steven. Is Steven. He’s married now, and I’ve lost my chance, but...”

Esteban breathed. “You love him.”

“I did,” Xabi said, and realized it was true. He was over Steven. Finally. He reached out to Esteban. “I just wanted you to know that this...this is special to me.”

Esteban nodded solemnly. “Me too.”

Xabi smiled. “I know.”

They moved in for a kiss and it was clumsy, awkward. They parted with a nervous chuckle.

“It’s been awhile,” Esteban asked with a slight flush.

“Then we’ll take it slow,” Xabi tipped his head and moved back in. This times their lips meeting perfectly.

 

* * * *

“Lord Meireles is here,” the butler said, his good breeding betraying no emotion. Fabio was back staying at his father’s London house since leave Raul.

Fabio looked up from his desk. “Tell him I’m in a meeting.”

“You are not,” Raul said, pushing past the butler.

Fabio sighed and waved away the butler. “What do you want?”

“I told my father I don’t want to be the representative to the League of Nations. I told him I didn’t want his house or his money. The twin are at a hotel. I’m looking for a flat I can rent. Move there with me.”

Fabio’s mouth fell open. “You told off your father?”

“I did,” Raul said, a wide smile on his face. “I told him I didn’t want this job, it’s your job anyway!”

“You did?” Fabio started to smile. “Do you mean it?”

“Oh Fabio, he only put me up for that because he wanted to make you leave me. But I love you. Only you. You and me Fabio. I promised. I mean it.”

“I love you,” Fabio came around the desk. “We’ll get a flat, but I’ll have to be in Geneva a lot.”

“Geneva is lovely. The twins will love it,” Raul wrapped his arms around Fabio. 

“Oh Raul,” Fabio sighed as they began to kiss.

 

Chapter 96

When Danny found Tim alone in the nursery with Nicola in his lap, he decided he definitely could have been a spy with his amazing skills.

"Look, Nicola, it's Daddy," Tim said and as Danny approached, he saw that the infant's eyes were wide open and she was gazing intently at her grandfather.

"Hey little princess," Danny said, his mission slipping from his mind as he was taken in her once again. She'd been asleep when he'd gotten home the evening before, and he couldn't believe how much she'd changed in a few short weeks.

Tim passed her up to Danny who carefully cradled the baby in his arms. He stroked her cheek and then offered her his finger which she clasped in her tiny little hand.

"How's your brother?" Tim asked, waking Danny from his haze.

"He's recovering, thank you. The doctors were uncertain at first, but he's tough."

"I don't think King Nicklas is going to die any time soon," Tim said with a smile. "Do they have any suspects?"

Danny looked up, but Tim was focused on Nicola. "My chief minister has some suspicions, but I fear that's all we have."

"Do they still think I did it?" Tim asked with his typical bluntness.

They looked each other in the eye for the moment. Nicola cooed, breaking the deadlock, and Danny kissed her forehead.

"He does, yes," Danny said. "Though I struggle to see why, quite honestly."

"I'm not sure if that's a vote of confidence or not," Tim said.

Danny's spying abilities slipped away. "It's just, you got the deal you wanted out of him, why would you have any reason to have a vendetta?"

"Ah, but I think there in lies the rub," Tim said. "There are people who aren't happy with the deal I've brokered, even though exports from Denmark to the United States are set the double in the next few years. Instead of seeing this as a good thing for both parties, they feel that the Danish people will lose out."

"So you think you've been framed?"

"Kill Nicklas and put me in jail, and it's a whole new day," Tim confirmed.

"But who?"

* * * *

Jordi lay up against his mother in the posh feather bed. It was far nicer than anything either of them had ever had before. She was stroking his forehead, listening to him chatter about his football team.

"Xavi has taken me to three matches now. It's so much fun. Maybe you and I can go to one while you're here."

"I'm not sure Villa would allow it," Kiki said. 

Jordi chuckled. "He suddenly seems to think you're made of glass, doesn't he?"

"We slept on the streets for years when you were little," Kiki agreed. My body has no idea what to do with with this posh bed and all the good food."

"Isn't Oriol an amazing cook?" Jordi said. "Even the staff is getting fat!"

"Cristiano and Iker are good bosses, aren't they?" Kiki asked, as she'd found both men to be wonderfully kind.

"They're so good to me," Jordi admitted. "When I first came, I thought being a servant was such a lowly thing, but when you have good employers, it's so nice, really."

"I'm glad you're happy. I was afraid you'd be unhappy when I sent you here, but you've grown up so much." She kissed his forehead. "Now. Tell me about Xavi. Does he know how you feel about him?"

"Mum!" Jordi said, blushing.

"Oh, honey, it's obvious," Kiki said. "Have you talked to him?"

"No!" Jordi insisted. "I...can't!"

"Oh, but you should," Kiki urged. "He's simply lovely. And think, with both of you working here at the house, what a perfect arrangement."

"Yeah, but what if he doesn't like me like that! Awkward!"

"Yes he does," Kiki said, having seen the affection in Xavi's eyes. "He most certainly does."

Jordi's heart leapt. Could it be true? After Jordi had kissed Xavi so many weeks ago, Jordi had been unable to look him in the eye. But Xavi had never said anything about it, so he assumed that they were just going to forget it to save them both the embarrassment.

"Go," Kiki urged, pushing Jordi out of her lap. "You'll never know if you don't ask."

Full of hope, Jordi gave his mum a kiss and scampered to find Xavi. It was just after lunch on Saturday, and the family was all out at the art museum, and the staff was having a well earned break.

Xavi was lying on his bed, reading a book when Jordi burst into the room.

"Everything alright?" Xavi asked, taking in Jordi's excited countenance.

"Yes," Jordi said quickly. "Can...can we talk?"

"Sure," Xavi said as he closed his book. He looked at Jordi, and his heart rate increased. The young man was flushed with excitement, making him even more attractive.

Jordi nervously shifted from foot to foot. What was he supposed to say? Maybe he should have thought of that before he came in here. Oh god. He wasn't saying anything. Xavi was looking at him expectantly and Jordi couldn't even open his mouth. His tongue had gone dry and he was fairly certain he was about to faint.

"Are you okay?" Xavi asked, growing concerned as Jordi had stopped breathing.

"I have to go!" Jordi blurted out and ran from the room. He burst into his own room next door and threw himself onto the bed.

What an idiot. Oh god, now Xavi thought he was a total idiot. Why had he listened to his mum? How could someone wonderful like Xavi ever be interested in stupid Jordi?

"Jordi?"

Xavi was peering into his room, a look of concern on his face. 

"It's nothing," Jordi insisted, pressing his face into his pillow and hoping maybe he'd just suffocate.

But the bed sagged slightly as Xavi perched on the edge of it. "Whatever it is, you can say it to me." Xavi slowly began to stroke Jordi's back. "Actually, I think maybe I know what you came to say."

Jordi turned his head, and looked up at Xavi. "You do?"

"Yes," Xavi smiled with a trace of sadness. "And part of me knows I should tell you to forget it. Forget an old man like me and look for someone closer to your age."

"It doesn't matter!" Jordi quickly insisted. "I don't care if you're old. You're..." Jordi's English failed him. Was there a word that adequately expressed perfection?

"But," Xavi filled in for him. "There's another part of me that doesn't care about consequences when you've found someone as lovely as you."

A smile began to spread on Jordi's face. "You think I'm lovely?"

"Of course I do," Xavi said. "Do you see me taking any other boys to football matches?"

"No," Jordi blushed. He sat up so he was facing Xavi. 

Xavi leaned forward and tipped his head. Their lips met in a perfect, soft kiss.

* * * *

"Alright, settle you lot," Sergio said over the din in the room. He and his crew from Oxford were headed out to Lola and Guti's club that evening. Guti had allowed Sergio to bring them, on the promise that they would keep the majority of their deviant behavior to the upstairs rooms.

"When does the fucking start!" demanded Lucas from his perch on the sofa where he was nuzzling Oscar. They were sitting in a private room of the dinner club they'd come to, and after many bottles of wine, everyone in in the group was rowdy.

"When you fucking shut up and let him talk!" Fernando shot back, and everyone burst into raucous laughter.

"I feel faint," David said, throwing a hand over his forehead. "Fernando just swore!"

Kaka was giggling. "Fucking right he did."

"RICARDO!" Marcelo cried out.

"That's it! We're not going to the club!" Sergio said with mock anger.

"But Sergio," Fernando said, a sexy pout on his freckled face. "You said you were gonna tie me up and spank me tonight!"

Sergio licked his lips. "I did?"

"I mean," Fernando stroked Sergio's thigh. He was very possibly drunk and incredibly horny. This was not his normal behavior at all and he didn't even care. "If you don't wanna..."

"TO THE CLUB!" Sergio shouted and a cheer of approval went up in the room.

 

Chapter 97

Fabio sat with Lola on the couch, telling her all about his new post with the League of Nations. Lola watched him glow with happiness. He'd made it in his career. He had the man he loved. His life was everything he wanted.

"So you leave for Zurich soon?" Lola asked with a sad pout.

"We do," Fabio said. "But we'll only be a few months and then we'll be back."

"I'll miss you and Raul," Lola said. "You know you're my favorites."

"I thought Hope was your favorite," Fabio asked with a knowing smile.

"Well, yes, she's my Hope. But you two are my favorite playmates," Lola grinned wickedly.

"When in your darling Hope coming back to the club?" Fabio asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a man he would never have expected to see here. It was Lord Carvalaho, a friend of Raul's father.

"She's very busy being a mother right now," Lola said. "She sends me here in the evenings so she can get some sleep."

Fabio chuckled. "Oh Lola, whatever shall we do with you?"

"Well, I can think of a couple of things," Lola said, but then realized she didn't have Fabio's full attention. "What is it?"

Fabio glanced at the man, "Why is Lord Carvalaho here?"

Lola's brow furrowed slightly. "He's a friend of Lord Mourinho, I thought?"

Fabio shook his head. "They had a falling out a year ago; he's been working with Raul's father."

"Well that is interesting," Lola said. The elder Lord Meireles has been rather outspoken about the need for moral purity in society, most importantly with its leaders. "Why would a politcal ally of Raul's be a member here?"

"That, my dearest Lola, is a very good question."

However, the doors to the club burst open at that point and a very rowdy group of college boys tumbled in, immediately distracting them both.

"LOLA!" Sergio called out.

Lola stood, gathering her skirts and quickly made her way over to the pack. Sergio kissed her on the cheeks and hugged her. "Sergio, darling, why don't you and your friends come straight upstairs?"

"Hi Lola," Fernando said with a drunken giggle.

The rest of the patrons began to look annoyed as the crowed stumbled through. Guti would have a fit if he saw them, but thankfully Guti was upstairs already.

"FABIO!" Sergio declared as he spotted his cousin. "Fabio, my love, come up with us!"

"I'm waiting for Raul," Fabio said with a grin. 

"Bring him too. I fucking love him," Serigo said as he hauled Fabio to his feet.

They herded up the stairs, Marcelo nearly tumbling back down as he tripped on Lola's skirt. As it was, David had to catch her to keep her from falling over as well.

"BOYS, don't hurt the nice lady," Fernando demanded as he grabbed Sergio's ass. They were loud and amused by themselves in a way only university students could be, utterly oblivious to the other people around them.

Lola showed them to Guti's private lounge which had several bedrooms attached. The boys settled themselves around the room, pairing up fairly predictably: Sergio and Nando, Oscar and Lucas, but David was checking out Fabio as Marcelo pulled a very tipsy Kaka into his lap.

Lola knocked lightly on Guti's private chamber.

"Yes?" came an annoyed voice.

Lola stuck her head in and found Raul and Guti dressed and sitting on the settee. "Sergio and his friends are here. You might want to lock this door if you don't want to be joined."

Raul shook his head. "Are you keeping them in line, Lola?"

"Hell no," Lola laughed. "I'm planning to join them."

Guti laughed as Lola disappeared. "We've lost all pretense of being a respectable family, haven't we?"

"I suppose at least Xabi and Iker behave themselves," Raul said. 

"Well," Guti said, "Iker did ask about getting Villa and Silva on the list."

"As long as Iker isn't planning on coming too," Raul sighed in resignation.

"Nah, Iker is so busy being father and husband he doesn't have time for debauchery."

"He will when he gets older."

"And he has to keep Raul-Luis out of Lola's eye-line?" Guti asked with a knowing grin.

"Exactly."

Back in the lounge, Fabio was fending off the advances of David, wondering when Raul would arrive. 

"You're too pretty to be Sergio's cousin," David breathed on his neck. "Sergio's an ugly bastard."

"I am not, you asshole!" Sergio shot back even as he wormed his hand into Fernando's trousers.

"We...." Fernando tried. "We...should...another room."

"But I wanna stay," Sergio said as he breathed on Fernando's neck. He knew his brilliant, reserved husband was not into exhibitionism, but the thought of it was so hot to Sergio. Taking him right here in this room. Not that any of the others were really paying much attention. Oscar and Lucas already had their shirts off, Oscar splayed on the couch with Lucas tormenting his nipples. The left one was bright red and the right was soon to follow. Kaka was on his knees between Marcelo’s legs, nuzzling at his crotch.

Lola was perched on a chair at the end of the room, sipping a tumbler of whiskey and enjoying the show. She caught Sergio's eye and winked.

Sergio smiled at her as he closed his hand around Fernando’s cock. His husband always lost all sense of himself at this point. “I’ve got to have you, Fernando. Right now.”

“Okay,” Fernando agreed, eyes shut. He knew there were people here, but he also knew these were people who understood letting go and letting the pleasure have no regrets.

Lola saw the moment Fernando let go of his inhibitions, and it was gorgeous. She decided to help out Fabio and sauntered over and slid down next to David.

“David, love, he’s waiting for his fiance.” Lola wrapped a finger around one of his curls and tugged it experimentally.

“How boring,” David pouted, though he gazed down Lola’s cleavage. “You’re Sergio’s aunt, right?”

Lola chuckled. “I should have you thrown out for that.”

“She’s Lola,” Fabio corrected the impulsive young man. “She’s...”

“Lola,” she said, kissing the side of David’s face, loving the slight stubbly feel. 

“Exactly,” Fabio agreed.

The door to the lounge opened, and Raul entered, taken aback for a moment as he saw Kaka sucking on Marcelo’s cock and Fernando with his pants off.

“I guess this is where the party is!” Raul grinned as he came to join Fabio.

“These kids make me feel old,” Fabio said as he greeted Raul with a long kiss.

“Mmm,” Raul said with a happy sigh. God, he nearly threw all this away. Every day with Fabio was a gift.

“Well, this one just called me old,” Lola told them. “What shall we do with him?”

David’s eyes grew wide as Lola nuzzled his neck and Fabio and Raul looked down at him speculatively.

“I think maybe we can show him what experience can do for you,” Raul said as he glanced at Fabio to see if he was in the mood for some playing.

Fabio threaded his fingers through Raul’s. “I’d say it’s only right.”

“Let’s go to my room,” Lola said with a wicked smile and pulled David up from the couch.

Oscar saw them leaving, and swore. “Mother fucker just left with Lola!”

The others paused in their antics long enough to take note. 

“And Raul and Fabio!” Sergio said with a wistful sigh. Underneath him, a drunk and horny Fernando moaned and his attentions were restored to their rightful place. He took a bite of Fernando’s lush ass, which was as freckled as his face.

Lucas was struggling with Oscar’s trousers. They never came off as easily as Lucas’s lust wanted them to. All these buttons and such. Oscar, per usual, was also being wholly unhelpful as he panted and writhed, demanding to be touched and fondled, but doing nothing to get his own kit off.

Marcelo had no idea what had happened to Kaka this evening. He gave the best blow jobs, but trying to talk him into them usually required an act of God. Marcelo did not question as he gripped the arm of the sofa. Kaka sucked lightly on his balls, fingers gripping the base of his cock, making Marcelo moan almost in pain. He’d bring him to the edge and back off. Over, and over until Marcelo wanted to scream. And then, as though he knew exactly when it was too much, he’d suck down hard, and leave Marcelo in a pool of quivering lust.

Kaka swallowed, grinning with pride in himself as Marcelo panted. Leaving him laying there, he glanced at Sergio and Fernando, the latter on his knees, the former pressing into him, and knew that the couple would not want company. Instead he made his way to where Lucas had finally managed to disrobe Oscar, and starting taking off his own clothes.

Lucas looked up, surprised to see the older man looking down at them with lust. Damn, this place was some kind of magic, wasn’t it? Sergio hadn’t been lying. 

Kaka begin to stroke Lucas’s ass as he leaned down to suck on Oscar’s cock.

“Luka, can I fuck you?” Kaka asked so politely you’d have thought he was asking about the weather.

Lucas choked on Oscar’s cock and Oscar’s eyes flew open. 

“Uh...sure,” Lucas agreed as he wiped the spit off his chin. Oscar didn’t even protest as Lucas started to shed his clothes with a furious pace. Oscar sat up and moved to the side as Kaka sat, legs splayed and began to stroke his cock. Across the room, Marcelo was watching with wide eyes. 

Fernando needn’t have worried about having an audience. Kaka had the attentions of everyone else in the room as he worked Lucas open with his fingers even as Sergio fucked Fernando. 

Oscar was watching with rapt attention, happy enough to stroke his own cock as Lucas straddled Kaka’s legs, gasping as Kaka worked three fingers into him.

Marcelo had to get a better look, and moved to sit with Oscar, helping the young man with his cock as Lucas, with trembling legs, lowered down onto Kaka’s cock. Kaka gripped his hips as Lucas began to work himself up and down, marveling at how perfectly Kaka thrust up into him. Who had taught their reserved class mate to fuck?

They were making such noises that Fernando, sweaty and spent, cuddled into Sergio, opened his drowsy and drunk eyes to watch. Maybe Sergio was right. Maybe bringing their pleasure here, to share, was a good thing.

“Oh fuck, fuck yes!” Lucas was shouting as Kaka fucked him hard. Marcelo was jerking off Oscar and reached his other hand over to Lucas, seeing his bobbing cock needing a little help.

The room was a symphony of delicious noise. Sergio smiled as the orgy on the couch finished each other off. He fucking loved this place.

 

 

Chapter 98

Lola led the group to her personal play room. As always, she fully intended to be a spectator rather than a participant. Lola liked her pleasure, for sure, but for all her twisted preferences, she actually wasn’t much of an exhibitionist.

David took in the room- were those whips on the wall- and swallowed hard. Maybe he was in past his depth here. Raul had pushed Fabio up against the wall and was kissing him graphically.

“Do you want to get your clothes off?” Lola asked innocently as she draped herself over the fainting couch, which afforded her a perfect view of the whole room.

“Uh...yeah,” David said as he swiftly began to disrobe.

“No,” Lola said with a pout. “Not like that. Take your time!”

David slowed down and very, very self consciously continued taking his clothes off. Lola was watching him like a lioness sizing up her prey.

“Fabio, darling?” Lola asked as the pair came up for air. 

“Yes?” Fabio asked, remembering there were other people in the room.

“Can you fix me a drink?” she asked with a little pout.

Raul chuckled. “Lola, don’t play the damsel in distress. No one is buying it.”

“So rude!” Lola said in mock anger. “I can be dainty!”

Fabio bit his lip as he turned away to pour a tumbler of Lola’s favorite whiskey. Lola could actually play anything that she wanted, which was part of what made her so good at her job. He’d see her charm men with a simper and turn around a moment later and crack the whip, calling out someone for being a bad boy.

He handed Lola her drink and curled up at her side. “Raul, can you help David, there?”

“Boy can’t undress himself?” Raul asked as he watched his fiance cuddle Lola.

“His hands are shaking,” Lola pointed out. “Calm him down.”

It was only true. David had been one of the least drunk of the lot, and he was beginning to wish he’d seen to his own drunkenness rather than pouring wine for the others. Raul approached him and gently pushed his hands away from his buttons. Gazing into David’s eyes, he began to open his shirt.

“You are a pretty boy,” Raul whispered. “I love this hair.”

David’s hands were balled at his sides as he felt his cock ready to explode from his pants.

“David, don’t be shy,” Lola urged. “Touch him.”

David reached and made contact with Raul’s hips, reaching around to grab his ass.

Raul let out a startled noise. “Maybe he’s not as shy as we thought.”

“You want to fuck someone?” Fabio asked, utterly delighted at this turn of events.

David nodded, his curls springing.

“Are you offering?” Raul challenged, not sure he was ready to let this young buck have a go at his ass.

“What are you going to give me for it?” Fabio challenged, loving the way Raul’s face lit up with dirty lust.

“Now hold it,” Lola said. “I thought we were teaching this kid a lesson for calling me old!”

“I did not mean to call you old!” David said as Raul slid his shirt off and began to work at his trousers, deliberately fondling the solid shaft her discovered there.

“But you did,” Lola said chidingly. “And no one calls Lola old. Ever.”

“How old are you, anyway?” Raul inquired with a twinkle in his eye.

“Old enough to not rise to your bait,” Lola shot back. “Now,” she said, eyeing David’s cock as it came in to view. “That’s lovely.”

“It is,” Fabio said as he licked his lips.

“But he’s supposed to be getting punished,” Lola reminded Fabio. She caressed his cheek. “Get me my riding crop.”

Fabio got up and selected the small leather riding crop off the wall. Most of the whips Fabio had never seen Lola used. He suspected they might be for show.

“Raul,” Lola said. “Can you tie him across the bed with those silk ties?”

“Tie me up?” David asked, his voice reaching a new octave.

“You need it,” Lola assured him as she stroked her palm with the crop.

David went without protest, allowing himself to be tied across the bed. His ass was fully exposed and his cock was trapped against the bed.

“Fabio? Five to start?”

Fabio took the crop back from her and crossed over to David. “So. You think Lola is old?”

“No!” David protested. “She’s gorgeous. Just...mature.”

CRACK.

Fabio laid a heavy lash across his pale buttocks, leaving a bright, angry red mark. David let out a cry.

Lola crooked a finger at Raul who came to her as Fabio finished the lashes. 

“Raul, baby, will you fuck him for me?”

“David?”

“Uh huh,” Lola nodded.

“I thought he wanted to fuck Fabio?”

Lola grinned. “Nope. None for him tonight.”

Raul kissed her cheek and began to disrobe. Lola got up, crossing over to touch the marks across David’s ass. He flinched slightly.

“So what were you saying again?” She asked, crawling onto the bed and whispering in his ear.

“You’re young and lovely!”

“Five more for lying,” Lola told Fabio, who happily took it out on David’s ass. He was rather skilled at this and knew just how hard to strike to not break the skin.

Ah Lola watched, Raul took over, fucking David with raw passion. David never uttered one sound of protest, but gripped the sheets, taking everything he was given, moaning with pain and pleasure. 

When Raul came all over David’s red, abused ass, Fabio was there to replace him, fucking David with renewed vigor, never once letting up on the young man who was fair whimpering at this point. 

“You love it, don’t you?” Lola asked and David shamefully nodded.

When Fabio’d had his fill, Lola untied David, helping him collapse onto the bed.

With a kiss, Lola sent Fabio and Raul to their own suit and pulled the covers over David.

She left him there, slipping out the back door, and heading home. To Hope.

* * * *

Lord Carvalho entered the elder Lord Meireles’s office early the next morning.

“What have you found?” he asked.

“It appears they young Lord Fabio enjoys engaging in rather sordid sex at a club south of the river owned by the rather infamous Lola Cudicini.”

“Is he really?” Lord Meireles said, steepling his fingers and looking pleased.

“Your son is there as well,” Lord Carvalho said.

Lord Meireles waved his hand. “He has already sealed his own fate by choosing Lord Fabio over his own kin.”

“Shall we have it all published in the Sunday Times?”

“Front page?”

“With pictures.”


	13. Chapters 99-100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The club is shut down. How will the family react?

Chapter 99

Xabi lay in Esteban's arms. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't even drowsy. He was just reveling in the protective cocoon of Esteban's warmth. 

Esteban made him feel secure in a way he'd never experienced before. Growing up he had the weight of the responsibility of being the heir on his shoulders, and after the sinking of the Titanic, the weight of his mother's death and his responsibility to Bernabeu. Even Steven hadn't been this secure. It was an emotional roller coaster of what he had and couldn't have.

Demanding nothing from him, nothing but himself and his thoughts, Esteban made Xabi finally, truly happy.

"You asleep?" Esteban asked, his lips caressing Xabi's ear.

"'No," Xabi said. "What time is it?"

"Nearly nine," Esteban admitted.

"I should go," Xabi sighed. He'd come up to Oxford on the pretense of hearing a lecture, and Sergio and Fernando had taken little Jon for the evening, but Xabi had promised to return for him before bed time.

"Fernando said he'd keep him," Esteban mentioned. His favorite pupil was well aware that Xabi had not come up for a lecture, but thought the ruse so delicious he was more than happy to pretend. "You know we don't have to hide this."

"I know," Xabi said. "I'm just not quite ready for the public scrutiny. I want you all to myself."

"You know I'm all yours," Esteban said as he rubbed his cheek against Xabi's. They'd not yet made love, but Esteban ached for it. Xabi was perfection in his eyes.

Xabi turned to kiss Esteban. Even the awkward movement, never as perfect as the novelists would like you think, didn’t dampen his ardor.

After a few long moments, Xabi pulled back. “Jon loves his Uncles.”

“I bet staying the night with them would be a great treat,” Esteban negotiated.

Xabi reached for the telephone.

* * * *

Jon was snoring away on the couch in Sergio’s lap when the phone rang. “Hello?” Fernando asked, grabbing it quickly before the baby could rouse.

“Fernando? Is Sergio there?”

It was Iker and he sounded upset.

“Sure, Iker. Everything okay?”

“Not really,” Iker sighed.

Fernando frowned and handed over the receiver. Sergio took it. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you read the Times this morning?”

Sergio had a whole lot of sarcasm to throw at that question, but managed to keep it in as he stroked Jon’s hair. “No, we don’t take the paper.”

“They’ve run an expose on Fabio and the club. It’s pretty awful. Fabio is downstairs with Cristiano and Jose. He’s convinced his career is over.”

“That’s bullshit! Everyone goes to the club!” Sergio replied.

“Well, not everyone,” Iker reminded him. “And some rather important people are saying that he’s not fit for the government.”

“Oh,” Sergio sighed. “Do you need us to come down?”

“How about in the morning,” Iker said.

“How are Guti and Lola?” 

“Well, that’s the other bad news...”

* * * *

“No,” Lola said, her anger flaring. “This is bullshit and you cannot shut us down.”

“We have a court order, ma’am,” said DI Frank Lampard, brandishing an order from the judge. “You are to cease and desist all commercial activity at this premises.”

“On what grounds!”

“Breaking laws of decency, ma’am.” Frank was making the rounds of the rooms, empty for once.

“This is a private club; we are allowed to behave as we see fit!”

“It’s a public business,” Frank corrected as he opened the room to Guti’s toy room. He struggled to keep his composure as he looked at the array of sex aides. He didn’t even know what half of this was for.

"What are you even looking for?" Lola demanded. She'd called Guti when the police had shown up, but he wasn't here yet. Pepe had gotten himself arrested almost immediately for attacking one of the officers who'd come in to shut them down, and Lola had sent Simao with him to the station, hoping to keep her volatile bouncer from getting himself in further trouble.

But Guti had been trying to hold the family together as Fabio was inconsolable and Raul was trying to get ahold of Luis. He said he'd come as soon as he could, leaving Lola the only one to save the place.

"Just making sure the place is cleared out before we lock it up," Frank said. "If you have any personal affects, you might want to collect them. You'll not be allowed back inside pending the court date."

"This is my home!" Lola protested again, the tears now threatening. What was she supposed to do without the club? She took a deep breath, not wanting to give this bastard the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"I'm sure you have friends you can stay with," Frank said, not unkindly. 

Lola did, as she was actually living with Hope at Raul's house now, but this was still her home. Her business. Her everything.

She realized there was nothing to be gained here, and went to collect up what she could from the office. There was an officer standing there, making sure she didn't take anything that could be used as evidence. But Lola didn't care about the ledgers. She grabbed a photo of Hope and Nicola from the desk and shawl that her grandmother had given her.

Guti finally arrived as Lola stepped out front, and he immediately took her into his arms. She collapsed against him, finally giving into the tears as he held here.

"You know we're not beaten," Guti consoled as he watched the police bar the door to the club. 

He tried to believe it himself.

* * * *

The kitchen was quiet as the staff sat at the table, feeling useless. Carles finally sent them all to bed, knowing that they would be needed in the morning, but even as they retreated, Andy went back to the kitchen, his solace.

"Andy, you need rest as well," Carles said. Andy was scrubbing at a put that had burnt on food which wasn't coming clean for all the elbow grease Andy could muster.

"Just finish this washing up," Andy said, scrubbing harder.

Carles watched, wanting to do something to comfort the man, but not having any words. When the family hurt, the staff hurt as well. Everyone was worried about Fabio who'd had to be sedated and put to bed at Cristiano's house. Lord Raul was still upstairs in the sitting room with Hope, waiting for Guti to collect Lola. Hope was beside herself with worry, and it was all Lord Raul could do to comfort her. Her own family had gone home at her insistence, but Carles could tell his lordship was at a loss.

Carles had never felt so useless in his life. 

He sat back down at the table. His life was about caring for the family. Seeing to the staff, but at the end of the day, if they didn't want your care, where were you?

"Are you okay?" Andy asked, startled to see tears on the face of their stoic butler.

"Fine," Carles said absently, and Andy realized the man didn't even realize he was crying. Andy's heart went out to him. Carles who took such good care of them all. Who took care of Carles?

Andy sat with him, taking Carles's hand in his own. Carles started, but didn't pull away. He looked at Andy and realized he was crying.

"I'm sorry," Carles said as he quickly scrubbed at his face with his free hand. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Andy said gently. "You're allowed to be overwhelmed some times, too."

Carles smiled sadly. "I hate it when there's nothing you can do to fix things."

"I know," Andy said. "But not everything in life is a good cup of tea and a dust-free parlor."

"I suppose not," Carles said.

Andy gazed at Carles, taking in his features. Andy had no idea how old Carles was. He knew he was Bojan's father, but that Bojan had been born when Carles was very young. He looked wise and yet youthful all at the same time. Handsome, really.

There were footsteps on the stairs and Andy pulled his hand away just as Gerard appeared. 

"Lord Guti and Lola are home. Lord Raul says Lola's not eaten and could a tray be sent up."

"Yes," Andy said as he jumped up.

Gerard looked between the two men for a moment, realizing he'd interrupted something.

But Carles's face was impassive as ever. "Thank you, Gerard. You go on to bed, I'll see to his Lordship."

But as Carles and Andy silently worked together to prepare the tray, they both sensed a shift in their relationship.

* * * *

Raul held Fabio, eyes watchful as his lover finally slept. He had a very good idea who had done this to them, and the thought sickened him.

Fabio's career was likely ruined. Lola and Guti's club may never re-open. And it was all Raul's fault.

He supposed he should have known better than to expect his father would exact revenge for Raul's behavior. He might have thought his father was content to have ruined Raul's career. However, it was really Fabio his father was angry with. And his father didn't care if he was taking down Lola and Guti. The more the better, probably.

He would pay for this, Raul vowed, closing his eyes and holding Fabio tightly. 

Fabio was his family now. And no one was allowed to hurt him ever again.

 

Chapter 100

Hope sat with Lola’s head in her lap, thankful the older woman had finally fallen asleep. The trauma of the club closing had been too much for Lola and Cesc had had to prescribe a sleep aid to get her to calm down. Hope ached for her lover, but wondered, deep down, if the closing of the club wasn’t maybe a good thing for all of them. 

Hope rather wanted to take Nicola to Bernabeu for Christmas. Danny and Cesc were going to Denmark, even though Cesc was heartbroken at missing Christmas with Nicola, Hope had assured him that the infant wouldn’t remember it anyway. So the only thing keeping them in London was the Club.

The door opened and Carles stepped in. “I’m sorry to disturb you, M’lady, but Lord Beckham has arrived and wanted to speak with Miss Lola.”

“Oh,” Hope said as she looked down at Lola’s peaceful face. “Can Lord Raul speak with him? I hate to wake her.”

“I’m awake,” Lola said, her blue eyes opening.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Hope admonished gently even as Lola moved to sit up.

“I know,” Lola said as she patted her hair. “Carles, show Lord Beckham in.”

“Right away, M’lady.”

“What does he even want?” Hope asked a little petulantly. 

“Probably just to send his condolences on the club,” Lola sighed.

“Or to demand to know when you’ll re-open so you can get back to...”

“Lola! Darling!” Lord Beckham said as he entered the room, a look of concern on his handsome features. “I came as soon as I heard. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Lola lied as they kissed cheeks. 

“Oh my dear, we must fight this,” Lord Beckham said as he sat. “Excuse my rudeness, good afternoon, Miss Hope.”

Hope nodded and rose. “I need to see to the baby.”

“Yes,” Lola said. “Give her a kiss for me?”

“Of course,” Hope said as she departed. “Lord Beckham.”

“Now,” Lord Beckham said earnestly. “Do we know who’s behind this?”

“Fabio suspects it all has to do with him. When Raul told his father, Lord Meireles that he was done being his puppet, apparently he was not pleased at all. The stories about Fabio at the club came out the same day those horrid police officers came and threw me out of my own home!”

“My poor Lola,” Lord Beckham squeezed her hand. “Lord Meireles, you say?”

“Yes.”

“I happen to know personally that man has more than one skeleton in his closet. Yes. Leave this to me, my darling. I think I have just the thing to silence his protests.”

Lola raised an eyebrow. “Whatever have you in mind, Lord Beckham?”

“Oh, nothing too sinister, my dear. But you know that no one crosses me or those I care about without paying.”

* * * *

Stu arrived at Lord Bernabeu’s house ahead of Tim and his sons. Tim had sent him on so he could talk with Clint and Carlos about some business that Stu didn’t need to worry his head about. At times, it bothered Stu that Tim treated him like a pet rather than a partner, but then Tim would buy him a gift and fuck him senseless, and Stu would forget that he was upset.

He was let in by Carles, and shown to an empty sitting room where he sat, bored. He really needed to start keeping a book in his pocket.

As he sat, he heard voices in the main hall. Curiosity got the better of him and he slipped over to the door.

“Lord Beckham! I didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Well, of course, dear Gonzalo. You know no one is as invested in the club as I am.”

Gonzalo? Who was that? Stu peeped out the crack in the door and saw Lord Beckham talking to a handsome, dark haired man he might have seen somewhere. Stu had trouble keeping track of all of these society types. 

“Well, no,” Gonzalo laughed. “I just thought you might be avoiding this family after...well...”

“Hush,” Lord Beckham said, his expression darkening. “You know that was told to you in confidence.”

“Of course, of course. No one suspects you had anything to do with it.”

“No, but unfortunately, suspicions against Howard haven’t been sticking. The Danish government hasn’t been able to do anything.”

Stu’s jaw fell open.

“And the King is recovering.”

“Mmm,” Lord Beckham said, sounding annoyed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go see about Lord Meireles.”

“He was behind the club getting closed?”

“Yes. And I will make sure to finish the job this time.”

Lord Beckham departed and Stu rushed back to his seat, eyes wide. Lord Beckham had try to frame Tim for the the murder of the King?  
* * * *

Bojan carried in a tureen of soup as Juan held the door. “Oriol brought the bread as well.”

“I’ll help,” Juan said and scampered out to the car where Oriol was lifting out a basket of rolls. He grabbed his ass.

“Juan!” Oriol laughed as he nearly dropped the basket. 

Juan kissed his cheek. “As much as I hate when there’s a crisis, I love it when you all come over here.”

“I wonder why we have two households some times,” Oriol commented and handed over the rolls.

“So you and I can get some work done and I’m not always in the kitchen trying to grope you?”

“Would you two cut it out!” Mesut complained as he pushed in between them to get the basket of silverware out of the boot.

“Sami came looking for you,” Juan said as he followed Mesut into the house.

“Unlike some people, he can say hello without an ass grab!”

“No, I grabbed his ass,” Sami said innocently as he leaned against the back door, smoking a cigarette.

Mesut flushed as Oriol and Juan laughed loudly. Andy was directing things in the kitchen. He smiled at Oriol, the two finally having come to a truce on sharing the kitchen space after Oriol had learned to let Andy have his own way all of the time. And Andy had learned that Oriol had some skills he did not, and he’d get the credit if he put Oriol to doing the things he did best.

The kitchen was soon bustling as Bojan and Xavi went upstairs to help Juan and Mesut clean the bed rooms and set the table for dinner.

“How many?” Xavi asked as he looked around the massive table Raul had bought just last month to accommodate the growing family.

Juan frowned. “Let’s see. All the household: his lordship and Guti. Hope, Lola, Cesc, Danny. Sergio and Fernando. Lord Xabi has brought Dr. Esteban home.”

Xavi cut him off. “Lord Xabi and Dr. Esteban?”

“Yes!” Juan said with a happy smile. “Isn’t it the most excellent match!”

“It is,” Xavi agreed. “I’m sorry, that’s ten.”

“Yes...Mr. Howard, Stu, and his boys.”

“Fourteen.”

“Lord Iker and Cristiano. Lord Fabio and Raul...Lord Luis.”

“Nineteen.”

“I think that’s it,” Juan said. “Is that enough?”

“I’d say so,” Xavi said. “You’re doing a fine job here, Juan.”

“Thank you,” Juan said, beaming with pride.

Jordi scampered in with the box of silver. “Carles says to use this silver as it will serve the entire party, and Lord Raul’s only serves sixteen.”

Juan sighed. “Here, let me put away ours so nothing gets mixed up.”

Carles stuck his head in. “Lord Villa and Silva are coming as well. They’re bringing Miss Kiki.”

“Mum is coming!” Jordi asked happily.

“Yes,” Carles said with an indulgent smile. “That makes twenty-two.”

“Oh heavens. Xavi, can you find us more chairs?”

“We still have some in the attic?”

“Yes,” Juan agreed as he started to move faster.

“Mum is coming,” Jordi danced around with the silver. “I think they have an announcement. Mum may have hinted about it this morning, but then she said to pretend I hadn’t heard.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Juan said, as he knew that Kiki was going to be the surrogate for Silva and Villa. “Isn’t it lovely, all the babies?”

“I want babies, too,” Jordi said wistfully.

Juan laughed. “You’ll have to talk to Xavi about that!”

“Wouldn’t that be great? Having a little son or daughter to take to the football?”

“Maybe start with your little cousin before your commit to a kid yourself.”

“I hope they stay in London,” Jordi sighed. 

“Would you go back to Barcelona?”

“I don’t know. I love it there, but I love it here. And Xavi - this is his home.”

“You don’t have to decide today,” Juan said as he put away the silver and Jordi began laying out Lord Iker’s silver.

“True,” Jordi said, but the thought plagued him. Part of him really wanted to live in Barcelona, but he could never leave Xavi. And everything with Xavi was so new. And since the way Pep had left Xavi, wanting him to move away...

“Jordi!” Carles appeared again. “Can you help Mesut serve the tea?”

“On it,” Jordi handed the silver to Juan and scampered away. Time for his problems later.

* * * *

Stu tried in vain to get Tim alone all afternoon. He arrived with his sons and went to talk with Hope, asking Stu to have a rest. Stu did as he was told, hoping that Tim would joing him, but at tea time, he still hadn’t gotten a chance to corner him.

He came down to tea to find most of the family gathered.

“So still no luck with Dr. Cherundolo?” Hope was teasing Carlos as he sipped his tea.

“Don’t even start,” Carlos said with a sigh. “I’ve tried everything.”

Clint was grinning. “He even showed up at the hospital with flowers and offered to take him to lunch, but the good doctor was more interested in his patient’s impacted bowel.”

“Ew! Clint!” Hope protested with a giggle.

“It was a serious case,” Carlos muttered.

“Tim,” Stu said as he approached the group.

“Come, join us,” Tim said, kissing his cheek and pulling him up to his side.

“I need to talk to you, please,” Stu said. “It’s urgent.”  
 “Yeah Dad, Stu needs to talk,” Clint said, the bitterness traces still in his voice. He’d seen the blonde first, after all.

“Alright,” Tim said, finishing the last of his cake and letting Stu pull him into the corridor. Tim immediately reached for the younger man, but Stu stepped away.

“No,” Stu said. “This is important.”

“Alright,” Tim said, realizing he was serious.

“Earlier, Lord Beckham was here.”

Tim’s face darkened. The duke was a known playboy, never mind they’d been vying for the same access to the Danish markets. “Did he make a pass at you?”

“No,” Stu said. “He never even saw me. I overheard him talking to a dark haired man...I didn’t know him. He called him Gonazlo?”

“Lord Higuain,” Tim said. “What did they say?”

“Well, nothing, exactly, but...just...I think Lord Beckham was behind the attempted assassination of King Nicklas.”

“What exactly did they say?”

“I don’t know!” Stu started to twist his hands, wishing he’d written down what he’d heard. “Just something about how Lord Beckham had a secret he was keeping that Gonzalo knew about and their plan to frame you hadn’t worked.”

Tim reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t remember it all. But you’re sure they were talking about King Nicklas?”

“Yes,” Stu nodded. “They talked about the king and the Danish government.”

“I need to talk to Danny,” Tim said, turning away. But then he stopped and turned back to Stu. “Good work.”

Stu smiled and Tim pulled him close for a kiss. 

“Next time I’ll listen when you say you have something to tell me.”

Stu flushed with pleasure as Tim re-entered the sitting room to find the prince.

* * * *  
The family was in the middle of dinner, minus Prince Danny and Mr. Howard who’d had to leave on urgent business when the front doorbell rang. Annoyed, Carles sent Gerard to get it.

Gerard opened the door and found a very handsome man in a very nice suit.

“Can I help you?”

“Please excuse me for coming at this late hour,” the man began. He had an accent Gerard couldn’t immediately place. “I was told I could find Lola here?”

“Lady Lola is at dinner,” Gerard said.

“I’m sorry. I can wait.”

Gerard nodded. “May I have your name?” 

“Carlo Cudicini. Lola is my wife.”


	14. Chapters 101-105

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end...but there will be an epilogue to come soon!

Chapter 101

 

Gerard nodded to the man and led him into the sitting room. It was only after he offered him a drink and withdrew that his jaw fell open.

Miss Lola was married?

He made his way to the kitchen, ready to explode with the news. However, he found Carles whispering something to Andy, and he came up short.

Several times over the past few days he’s stumbled upon Carles and Andy, looking rather closer than normal. They’d never been caught up in a passionate embrace, but rather more like intimate friends who shared everything.

Jealousy flared in Gerard. He and Carles had been nothing more to each other than friends since the war, but since breaking up with Victor, Gerard had been lonely. He’d begun to think maybe some things could be rekindled, but...

“Gerard!” Carles said, showing no indication that anything had been going on that he might be worried about having interrupted. “Who was at the door.”

“His name is Carlo Cudicini. He claims to be Miss Lola’s husband.”

Andy nearly spit out the soup he was tasting. “He’s what?”

“He said he would wait for dinner to be finished to speak with her,” Gerard reported.

“We should probably let Miss Lola know he’s here. Perhaps she will want to speak with him before the others know he’s arrived?” Carles said, ever concerned about propriety.

“But isn’t Miss Lola with Lady Hope?” Andy asked, still gaping.

“Yes, Andy,” Gerard gave him a look. “Shall I tell her?”

“No, I’ll do it,” Carles said, pulling himself up to his full butler height and sighing.

He made his way up to the dining room. The noise was happy; even Lord Fabio had some smiled this evening despite everything, and Lord Beckham’s visit had gotten Miss Lola cheered up.

Juan and Mesut were serving the soup, and Carles leaned down next to Lola.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss,” he said in a low voice. “You have a caller.”

Lola frowned slightly, and Hope, sat on the other side of her, looked at Carles. 

“What is it, honey?” Hope asked.

“Nothing,” Lola said, patting her hand. “I’ll come at once.”

Hope looked confused. “Is it Nicola? Is the baby okay?”

“Sleeping soundly, m’lady,” Carles assured her.

“I’ll be right back,” Lola promised and followed Carles out. Once they were in the corridor, she asked. “Who is it?”

“A Mr. Cudicini?”

Lola stumbled and would have fallen over had Carles not been there to catch her.

“Miss?”

“I’m...I’m fine,” Lola stuttered. “Did...did he say what he wants?”

Carles held her arm firmly as she had gone white as a sheet.

“He says he’s your husband,” Carles replied kindly.

Lola nodded faintly. “Yes...yes I suppose he still is.”

“If you don’t want to see him...”

“No,” Lola shook her head. “I’ll see him.” She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She hadn’t seen Carlo in...oh it had to be ten years. Fifteen maybe. Not since...Paris.

Carles made sure she was steady before releasing her arm and leading her to the sitting room.

When he opened the door, Carlo rose. His eyes were wary as he took in Lola.

Carles disappeared and Lola just stood there for a long moment, unable to take her eyes off the man. He was better looking than before. How was he even better looking than that day...

“Lola,” he said quietly. “You look well.”

“Thank you,” she said, finding a smile, though she didn’t approach him. She took a seat near the door, and he resumed his seat. “What brings you to London?”

“Business,” Carlo said. “I came looking for you at the club...”

“Yes,” she said. “We’ve had a bit of trouble there.”

“So I have heard. You’re still in partnership with Guti?”

“Yes. He’s rather settled these days here with Lord Bernabeu.”

“Guti and Raul are together?” Carlo asked with a bit of a wistful smile. “That’s wonderful.”

“Lady Mamen went down with the Titanic,” Lola told him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Carlo said sincerely. He had known the Lady Bernabeu. Back when.

“So...” Lola said. Why are you here? What do you want? I’m happy. Please don’t ruin this. “How are you?”

“Very well. I’ve been working on the continent. Milan, mostly. I’m thinking of relocating to London, actually.”

“Oh.”

Carlo stood. “Lola, there’s no easy way to say this, so here it is. I want a divorce.”

* * * *

Danny stood in his office in London, pacing. “Where can we find real evidence?”

“I don’t know,” Tim slammed his hand on the desk. “All we have is speculation and what Stu overheard.”

“And, no offense, but as your lover, he’s not exactly a reliable witness.”

“I know,” Tim sat with a sigh.

Danny got up and went to pour them whiskey. “Cesc and I leave for Denmark in a few days. We need to take some evidence with us.”

“I know.” Tim downed his first whiskey and Danny poured him another. “I don’t suppose he’d confess.”

“Not to us,” Danny said as he took a healthy gulp. And then it hit him. “Not to us.”

“Right,” Tim said, annoyed.

“But he might...to Fabio.”

* * * *

As the staff cleaned up dinner, Gerard glowered. Andy and Carles? Honestly! What did the two of them even have in common? Andy was a cook, for pity's sake. Gerard was the head footman and valet to Lord Bernabeu! He and Carles were a team that kept the house running.

"Gerard, did you bring down the soup tureen?" Bojan asked as he looked around for the silver tureen that had been a wedding present from the Duke of Wellington. Iker would flip if that thing went missing.

"Yes," Gerard snapped moodily.

"I dried it," Mesut said, looking around and finding it under the prep table. He gave Gerard a look. "You want to put it in the car so we don't forget it again?"

"Sure," Bojan said as he went to collect it. What was Gerard's problem?

"The silver's ready too," Andy pointed to the basket. "You want to help him with that, Gerard?"

"Am I your servant now, as well?" Gerard snapped, but he grabbed the basket and followed Bojan out to the car.

Bojan eyed him warily. "Everything okay, Geri?"

"Fine," Gerard said, and glanced at Bojan. "Maybe."

"You...you wanna talk?" Bojan offered, a slight squeak in his voice. Even as much as he'd started to feel like a grown up at Lord Cristiano's house, being back here made him feel like a kid again some times.

Gerard set the silver in the boot of the car and leaned against it. “Is Carles....are Carles and Andy an item?”

Bojan almost dropped the soup tureen on the floor. “Are they WHAT?”

“You know!” Gerard said as his ears turned pink.

“No!” Bojan said. “No! I mean, Carles...he never, you know!”

“Sure he does,” Gerard said as he helped Bojan put the tureen in the boot.

“Well, like back in the day, but not for like twenty years!”

“Uh...” Gerard said, realizing that this was about to be the most awkward conversation in the history of the planet.

“He did?” Bojan asked, searching Gerard’s face for answers. “Who...OH MY GOD.”

“Shhh!” Gerard said. “It was years ago!”

“Oh...” Bojan said. “OH!”

“It ended...it...”

Bojan frowned. “You...you want to...maybe...”

“I don’t know!” Gerard said. “It’s just...”

“You’re lonely and he’s lonely?” Bojan asked gently.

“Maybe,” Gerard said with a sigh. “It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” Bojan said. “Carles is great. And, you know. Hot- for my dad.”

A smile broke on Gerard’s face. “He is, rather.”

“You know,” Bojan said thoughtfully. “Five years ago I’d have told you to fuck off and stay away from my dad, but I kind of like you better these days.”

“Thanks, I think,” Gerard said. “You’re not as much of a dork as I used to think you were.”

Bojan giggled. “I’m telling my dad you called me a dork!”

Gerard started to giggle as well, and they ran back toward the house.

 

Chapter 102

 

Cristiano sat trying to read his paper at the breakfast table. Silva was at the other end with Kiki, chattering away in Spanish. Or was that Catalan? Cristiano had no idea and quite frankly he didn’t care. He just wanted to read his damn paper.

“Tea, sir?” Bojan asked as Cristiano rustled his paper.

“Oh...yes, thank you,” Cristiano said as he lowered the paper out of the way so Bojan could refresh his cup.

Silva laughed loudly. Cristiano grimaced.

“If you would like to take your tea to the library?” Bojan quietly suggested.

“Yes,” Cristiano said. “I would.”

As he got up, nodding to Silva and Kiki across the table who barely registered him, he tried not to show his annoyance. He’d been more than happy for Iker’s cousin and his partner to come and stay with them a few weeks. Meet the baby. Enjoy the city. But somehow they’d turned a visit into a permanent fixture while Cristiano wasn’t looking. Could Kiki come to stay? Oh, yes, Kiki is Jordi’s mum and now she’s having our baby, do you mind if we stay in London during the pregnancy, we do so like this doctor...

Cristiano found Iker in the library, Raul-Luis sitting on his lap. His annoyance evaporated. “Good morning little man.”

Raul-Luis waved his hands happily at the sight of Cristiano and let out a happy noise. Cristiano leaned down to kiss Iker and then the baby.

“Good morning,” Iker said.

“Why didn’t you join us for breakfast?” Cristiano asked as he laid aside his paper and took Raul-Luis out of Iker’s hands.

“I ate with Raul-Luis,” Iker said. “The breakfast room is a little noisy.”

Cristiano grinned. “It’s not just me, then?”

“No,” Iker said as he gave Raul-Luis his finger and let the little boy squeeze it as he tried to stand on Cristiano’s legs. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Cristiano reassured him. “They did so much for us, it’s only right we’ve opened our home.”

“Maybe you, me, and the baby need to take a week away?”

“Or just you and I could have a weekend at the sea? Brighton?”

Iker grinned. “I’d like that.”

Cristiano leaned over Raul-Luis and kissed Iker. “And then maybe we’ll see if Villa and Silva want to spend the winter up at Bernabeu?”

* * * *

Alex picked up the fussing Nicola and settled her on her shoulder. “Shhh there, little one. Mummy will be right up for your breakfast.”

Nicola voiced her disapproval at the delay, and her cries brought Hope.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m late,” Hope said as she rushed in, only half dressed. “We were up late and then Lola was up just about at dawn!”

“Is everything alright?” Alex asked as she passed over Nicola who calmed at the sight of her mother.

“I don’t know,” Hope sighed as she sat and began to feed Nicola. “Something happened last night and she disappeared and this morning she would barely speak to me and rushed off.”

Alex stared at Hope. Servants liked to gossip, and this house had some of the biggest gossips. “She...she never said what happened last night?”

Hope looked up. “You know. You know why Lola is upset.”

“Well,” Alex tried to backpedal, not wanting to face Lola’s wrath if she found out Alex was the one to tell Hope about Carlo.

“Alex! Tell me! What happened?”

Alex looked pained. “It’s really not for me to say, Miss Hope.”

“Tell. Me.” Hope glared at the smaller woman, and Alex broke.

“Oh, Hope, a man came to the house last night claiming to be Lola’s husband.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“I would have thought so,” Alex said. “But Gerard said Lola never denied it. She was talking with the man for half an hour and then he left.”

“Who is he?” Hope demanded. 

“His name was Carlo...something. Gerard said he thought he was Italian. He’s gorgeous, apparently.”

Hope glared.

“Please don’t tell Lola I told you,” Alex begged.

“I won’t,” Hope promised vaguely, but was not concerned about the maid and her secret. She was more concerned about who this man was, and why Lola hadn’t told her about him.

* * * *

Danny and Tim met Fabio for drinks at his flat. Fabio was still in shock from the fall out of the scandal, and didn’t want to be seen in public right now. Nothing had been decided yet about the League of Nations post, but Fabio didn’t want to be seen to do anything that might jeopardize his chances.

“To be blunt,” Danny said, “we need your help.”

Tim gave Danny a look. Maybe it was a good thing King Nicklas was making a full recovery. Danny didn’t do diplomacy very well. “We need a favor, and we think we can help you in return.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Are you still friendly with Lord Beckham?”

“Of course,” Fabio said. It had ended rather amicably with the older man. And, Fabio supposed, Lord Beckham knew the value of an ally in Parliament.

“We believe that Lord Beckham may be behind the attempted murder of my brother,” Danny said.

Tim held in a sigh. Seriously, Danny would spill the state secrets for a box of chocolates. “We don’t know for sure, but we have reason to believe.”

“Really?” Fabio asked. In truth, he didn’t know a whole lot about David’s business, but he didn’t seem the type to murder anyone. Then again, he didn’t know a whole lot about David, did he?

“We...” Danny started, but Tim finally cut him off.

“There’s some information I’ve learned about Lord Meireles that we think we can use to get him to withdraw his case against you and the club.”

“What is it?” Fabio asked, eager.

“The lord, apparently, has an affinity for rather young, Asian boys.”

“Oh!” Fabio sat back.

“There are photos,” Tim nodded. Photos he’d bought off a man who’d agreed to sell them to Lord Beckham, but was easily swayed by double the price. “What we need is this. You go and see your old friend. Talk with him. Drink with him. Tell him how upset you are by all of this scandal. Seduce him.”

Fabio frowned. “I’m with Raul. We’re getting married.”

Tim shrugged. “Surely he won’t have a problem with you working to clear your name, will he?”

“Well, no.”

“You don’t have to sleep with him,” Danny interjected. “Just make him think you will. Get him drunk and find out about Nicklas.”

Fabio nodded. “And if I do, you’ll make this scandal go away?”

“And get the club back.”

“We may need Lola’s help.”

* * * *

 

Lola, however, was caught up in her own drama at the moment, and the club was the last thing on her mind.

As she stood in front of the hotel Carlo was staying at, she didn’t know what she wanted to do. Carlo wanted a divorce.

It was true, she was the one to walk away that spring afternoon in Paris. Carlo wanted her to give up the club and Guti. To move with him to Italy and raise a family. But Lola hadn’t been ready for that. She wanted Carlo, but she hadn’t been ready to give everything up for him.

But everything was different now. The club was gone. It might never be back. 

Could she have Carlo?

But Hope...

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

Lola looked up and saw a tall, dark man with an Austro-Hungarian accent. “Oh, I’m...”

“You look like you need to sit and have a cup of tea,” the man said, smiling kindly, his blue eyes twinkling.

Lola nodded. “I think I do.”

He guided her into the restaurant of the hotel. His name was Petr, and he was in London with his fiance, looking to possibly rent a flat here in town.

“What is your fiancee's name?” Lola asked as she sipped the tea the waitress sat before her.

“Carlo.”

Lola’s eyes widened slightly. “Carlo...Cudicini?”

“Yes! Do you know him?” Petr’s eyes had lit up at the mention of his name, and in that moment, Lola knew exactly what she needed to do.

“I do. From a long time ago,” Lola said. “He’s incredible.”

“Oh, he is,” Petr sighed. “He’s supposed to be meeting me here. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“You know what, maybe not,” Lola got up. She’d leave a note for Carlo with the signed divorce papers. She had Hope and Carlo had Petr. And that was the way it was meant to be. “It was nice to meet you, Petr.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Lola.”

* * * *

Xabi sat with his book, not looking at the pages, but instead contemplating his future. When he would see Esteban next, most importantly. Could be move to Oxford? Would Esteban consider moving to Bernabeu? Xabi knew he’d been idle too long. It had been nearly a year since he’d returned from America, and he needed to do something about helping his father manage the estate and think about Jon’s future.

Wistfully, Xabi wondered if Esteban would want to have any more children. Jon loved him and Xabi could just imagine them with a row of little siblings. Of course, there would be cousins aplenty, Cesc already jabbering about more and Iker insisting they were looking to adopt as many as Cristiano would allow.

“Lord Xabi,” Carles said, startling the man who was lost in his own world.

“Yes?” Xabi said, embarrassed at how far he’d slipped away.

“You’ve had a message, Lord Xabi,” Carles said, indicating to the tray he was holding out to him.

Oh for pity’s sake, Xabi berated himself as he took the envelope from the tray. “Thank you Carles.”

Carles nodded and disappeared. Xabi looked at the handwriting on the envelope and knew at once who it was from.

Steven.

He had half a mind to chuck it in the fire place. After half a year, what could Steven have to say that mattered to Xabi any more?

But he slid a finger in the flap and tore it open. Pulling out the familiar paper, he unfolded it. On it was only a sentence.

Meet me in the park?

He owed it to him, Xabi supposed. He has been the one to break contact. He supposed at the very least he owed Steven that much.

Within the half hour, Xabi was strolling through Hyde Part to the bench where they had reconnected. Steven was sat there, bundled in a coat against the coming winter.

How long would he have waited? Xabi wondered.

Steven looked up with a smile. “It seems like forever.”

Xabi smiled back and sat. “How are you?”

“Alright,” Steven said. “Alexandra left me.”

Xabi gaped at Steven. “She did?”

Steven nodded thoughtfully, staring out across the grass. “She said she knew she’d never have my heart. She used to think it didn’t matter, but she met someone new and decided it did matter.”

“I’m sorry,” Xabi said as his head swirled.

“I know you said that you couldn’t cope any more getting in the middle of my marriage, but that doesn’t matter now.” The hope was evident in Steven’s voice. “We can be together.”

Xabi stood up suddenly. “Steven...”

“Wait,” Steven grabbed his hand. “You didn’t end my marriage, Xabi. It was doomed from the start. She’s happy now. And we can be, too.”

“Steven, I’m with someone else.”

Steven froze, letting Xabi’s hand drop. “Is it serious?”

“Yes...maybe, I don’t know!” Xabi said as he looked into Steven’s eyes, desperate. “He’s wonderful and he doesn’t cause me any stress or guilt.”

“Don’t lay this all on me!” Steven exclaimed. “It was your fault at first that we couldn’t be together.”

“My fault?” Xabi gasped. “How is it MY fault that my grandfather set his will that the family would lose our fortune if I didn’t marry and have an heir?”

“You never put me first,” Steve said petulantly.

“I always put you first!” Xabi roared. “I never gave up on you.”

“You were dead!”

Xabi’s shoulders slumped. “No. I don’t want to do this any more. I have Esteban now. And he doesn’t do this to me.”

Xabi was about to walk away from Steven forever, but then he uttered those words that deep down, he still wanted to hear.

“I love you.”

 

 

Chapter 103

 

Lola returned home with a smile on her face. Carlo was happy. Petr was simply lovely, and she knew he would make a wonderful partner for Carlo.  Something Lola was never able to be.  Something she would be for Hope.

"A husband? When exactly were you planning to mention this?"

Startled, Lola came to a stop, coat in hand to pass off to Carles who looked rather scandalized at Hope's outburst.

"We'll discuss this upstairs," Lola said firmly as Hope glared, hair wild and loose.

Carles escaped with Lola's coat and Lola led the way up the stairs.  Hope followed her.

"Were you ever planning to mention this?" Hope demanded as they arrived at their bedroom.

"Quite frankly, no," Lola said as she met Hope's stare.  "It's ex-husband, anyway." It was only a little white lie.  He was her ex, it just didn't happen until today.

"Oh,"Hope said, her anger lessening.  "Why was he here?  Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I knew it would upset you," Lola reasoned as she reached for Hope. "You're busy being a wonderful mother and you don't need to worry about my past, alright?"

"I wish you'd tell me things," Hope said in her little girl voice.

"You know I'm not much for sharing," Lola stroked her hair.  "That's all my past.  It  has nothing to do with you and me and Nicola."

"I know," Hope said.

"Now, where is that little one?  Have we decided to do Christmas at Bernabeu?"

Hope let herself be soothed and Lola was grateful. To begin to explain Carlo would require revealing things that Lola never wanted Hope to know about.

* * * *

"They want you to do WHAT?" Raul demanded when Fabio outlined the plan.

"It's not like THAT," Fabio said, trying to downplay the situation.  "Just act interested to see if I can get information from him."

"You know Lord Beckham!  Firstly, he's not the type to take kindly to being used and when was the last time he shared information with you about anything important!"

Fabio was hurt. "He used to talk to me all the time about political things."

"And honestly, if Howard and Danny can help you out, why are they only doing it for a price?  Why don't they just do what they can for you anyway?"

"But I want to help."

Raul sighed. "Fabio, they're using you.  They need to get Lord Beckham, and they can't do it without you.  Don't let them use you, Fabio."

Fabio sank down into his desk chair.  Raul made sense, but he also knew there were good reasons to help Danny.  "And none of this has anything to do with you being jealous of Lord Beckham?"

Raul's face darkened.  "He doesn't get to have you any more."

"And I don't want him," Fabio assured him.  "I just need to let him think so to get information."

"Fabio," Raul sighed.  "Lord Beckham has been manipulating people for years.  What makes you think you can manipulate him?"

* * * *

Xabi had walked away from Steven that afternoon, his head full of thoughts he couldn't process.  But who could he talk to?  His brothers were all wrapped in their own worlds, and Raul was no use with Guti having a meltdown over the club.

The person he'd come to rely on was Esteban.

He took his father's car, leaving Sami without a job and headed for Oxford.  When he arrived, he found Fernando sitting in Esteban's office, discussing the British Navy.

"Xabi," Esteban said, immediately concerned at the state of him.

"Is everything alright?" Fernando asked, worriedly.

Xabi nodded.  "It's....I need to talk to Esteban."

"Of course," Fernando got up, collecting his books.

"Can you not mention to Sergio I was here?"

Fernando nodded, and left them.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Esteban said as he came around the desk to sit with Xabi.

"I have," Xabi said. "It's Steven."

"Oh?" Esteban asked, trying to push down the jealousy that flared up.  Xabi had told him all about Steven, and Esteban knew Xabi still had feelings for him.

"He's gotten a divorce. He wants to be with me."

Esteban's heart sank.  "What do you want?"

"I don't know," Xabi said as he reached for Esteban's hand.  "I love you.  You know that.  You make me so happy."

"But you still love him," Esteban said.

"I don't know. I just don't think I know how not to love him, you know?"

Esteban nodded.  "So what are you going to do?"

Xabi looked him in the eye. "I suppose there's only one thing that makes any sense."

* * * *

Gerard was humming as he brought the tea service back to the kitchen.  Andy gave him a strange look as he took the tray and began to unload it into the hot dish water.

"What are you all smiles about?"

"Nothing," Gerard said even as he whistled and put the sugar bowl away.

"Sex," Andy decided.  "You've got a new boyfriend."

"I don't!" Gerard said with a laugh.

Carles came down with there last of the plates.  "Lord Raul and Guti are going to dinner out tonight, Lady Hope and Lola will be dinning at Mr. Howard's, Cesc is working late which means we have the evening off."

"Off?" Gerard clarified.

"Yes," Carles said with an indulgent smile.  "Once we have tea cleaned up, You are free to go out if you like."

"Excellent," Gerard said and gave Carles an impulsive kiss on the cheek as he headed upstairs to make sure the sitting room was in order.

Andy watched the exchange with a slight smile on his face.  It wasn't sex.  "Looks like someone has a little crush, there."

"What are you talking about?" Carles asked, genuine confusion on his face as Andy smirked.

"Oh, don't tell me you don't see it.  Gerard.  All smiles.  And since when does he kiss you?"

"Don't be daft; he's just happy to have an evening off."

Gerard came back.  "Sitting room is clear.  I just need to set out breakfast."

"I'm sure that can wait," Carles said. "No one will be up early tomorrow."

"Oh, I hate to leave it.  Hey, a friend of mine is in a play on the West End.  He said he can get tickets if we want.  Would you like to come with me?"

"To the theater?" Carles was at a loss.  Andy was giving him a look, and he was trying to  form a response.

"It's Shakespeare.  You were saying you'd always wanted to see a Shakespeare play, remember?"

"Well, yes," Carles agreed. "Yes, yes, I'd like that."

"It's a date!" Gerard said happily and bounded back out.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Carles raised a finger.  "Not one word, Andrew."

* * * *

Cesc was bone tired by the time Sami came to collect him at work.  He hated to admit it to himself, but he wasn't going to be able to keep up this schedule. The hospital, Danny's social commitments, and oh yes, seeing his daughter every now and again. His training was nearly done, but if he was going to keep working at the hospital, it was going to ask more of him than he wanted to give it.

He leaned back in the car and closed his eyes.  He didn't want to give up his medicine, but he wanted to be a husband and a father.  Danny didn't really have a choice in the work he did.  He'd already made sacrifices just to be with Cesc, and his tolerance of Hope and Lola in their lives deserved a medal of valor. So Cesc was going to have to make some changes.  Maybe he could work for a smaller practice.  Treat sniffles and scrapes rather than the more demanding work at the hospital.

Yes, he would do it.  Then maybe when Danny had to rush off to Denmark, he could go with him more readily.  Maybe the Danish embassy needed a doctor...

There was a squeal of tires and a crash.  Cesc was thrown from his seat.  Thankfully, they hadn't been going very quickly, and he bounced into the front seat and escaped any real harm.

As he struggled to sit up, the door to the car was thrown open, and he was drug out into the street.

Cesc was disoriented and tried to focus on the man who was gripping his shirt, but it was pitch black and the man was shaking him.

"You need to tell your husband to stop investigating Lord Beckham if he doesn't want another family member to get shot!"

The man ran off and Cesc struggled to get up.  He couldn't think straight, and when he saw Sami had been injured, all other thoughts disappeared from his head.  There was blood streaming from a gash on his forehead.

A passerby stopped to see if they were okay.

"Call an ambulance."

 

 

 

Chapter 104

Meust came barreling into the hospital ward. Cesc caught him. "Whoa, hold on there!"

"Is he okay? Is Sami okay?" Mesut asked, the tears streaming down his face, the horrors of the last time he'd come to the hospital to collect Sami too fresh in his mind.

"He's just fine," Cesc assured him. "He's got a bit of a gash on his forehead and the impact gave him a bit of concussion, but he's going to be fine. He's resting."

"I need to see him," Mesut pleaded with a relieved sob.

"Just this way," Cesc said, putting a reassuring arm through Mesut's and guiding him to a partition. Behind it, Sami was lying, a bandage on his head, face pale.

"Oh Sami," Mesut wailed and fell to his knees at his bedside. "You have to stop doing this to me."

Sami smiled sleepily. "The next time someone runs me off the road, I'll have a word."

"Someone did this on purpose?" Mesut asked, all the horrors returning. Not again. Not like with Michael and all that union mess.

"No," Cesc said quickly. "We think it was just an accident."

Sami didn't contradict him, but he knew better. In his haze, he'd heard the threat that the man had made to Cesc. He didn't know what was going on with Lord Beckham, but Cesc had taken the threat very seriously.

"You should probably let him rest," Cesc said. "We'll send him home in the morning. He won't be able to work for a few days, but he's going to be just fine."

"I'm not going anywhere," Mesut said firmly as he dragged a chair up to Sami's bedside.

"Mes, go home and get some sleep," Sami ordered.

"Nope," Mesut said as he settled in. "I can sleep here."

Cesc shook his head, but didn't argue. "Just don't cause a ruckus on the ward. I'm going to head home."

"Prince Danny here," Mesut said. "He was waiting for you in your office."

"Thank you, Mesut," Cesc nodded. He didn't want to have the conversation he was about to have with Danny, but it had to be done. He knew his husband was excited about the prospect of being able to prove that Lord Beckham had been behind his brother's attempted assassination, but he had no idea what kind of man Lord Beckham was, not really.

Or what he was capable of.

* * * *

"What?" DI Frank Lampard asked, alarmed, as his superior, Captain John Terry, gave him the news.

"Lord Meireles has dropped his complaint about the club and says that it should be released back into the care of it's owners," John repeated, not any happier about the turn of events than his best detective.

"So it's a crime if his highness thinks it is, but then he's free to change his mind?" Frank railed.

"You know how this works," John said with a sigh. "Come on, let's you and I go make sure the place is in order before we hand it over, and then go for a couple of pints, my treat? The last thing we need is that Lola woman getting her petticoats in a bunch over damaged property."

Frank sighed, knowing too well what the strong willed woman would bring down upon them if her club was in less than working order. "You want to see that den of sin?"

"Yeah, actually," John said with a cheeky wink at Frank. "Who knows, maybe give me some ideas with the missus."

Frank didn't reply to that. John was a married man, and from all accounts, fairly happily so, but then there were the late nights, the one too many pints at the pub, and Frank would give in to the temptation of his handsome captain.

Every time he knew he shouldn't, but he literally could not help himself. John was a passionate lover, and his cock...well.

"Come on," John said, almost as though he sensed Frank's thoughts were spiraling down into the gutter.

They walked the few blocks down the bankside to the club. It was growing dark, and as they approached, there was an air of anticipation. Frank unbolted the chains they'd placed around the front door, but left the "Closed Until Further Notice" sign.

The front entry was dark, and Frank found a light switch. The place was thoroughly modernized, with electric lights in every room. Whatever you thought of the morallity of the establishment, it was clearly making money.

John had not been inside before, leaving Frank to the task of shutting it down, and he looked around curiously.

"Must be nice being one of the rich," John said, a trace of envy in his voice as they walked through the front room. The place was full of velvet couches and the bar at the end of the room had Waterford Crystal glasses and decanters.

John picked up a bottle of very, very nice Scotch. "Fancy a bit?"

Frank gave him a grin. "Go on then."

John poured them both generous measures. Frank swirled the amber liquid and took a sniff. "Blimey, that is good stuff."

John took a sip. It burned deliciously. "Nice."

Carrying their glasses, they continued upstairs. Frank was nervous about John seeing the room full of...well, whatever all that stuff was. Frank could understand better now why this place had been so popular. The atmosphere was perfectly set for getting you in the mood.

"So, where was this room the lads can't stop talking about?" John asked with a twinkle in his eye, and Frank suddenly realized that this trip had absolutely nothing to do with making sure that the place was in order for its return to its owners. 

Frank swallowed hard as desire coursed through him. Helpless.

"At the end of the corridor, there."

"Shall we have a look?" John asked.

Frank drained his glass, not even tasting the last of the fine liquor, wishing he had a bit more. He led the way to the room and opened the door slowly. It was dark inside, and he quickly found the switch on the wall. Even with the lights on, the room was dim and shadowy.

John stepped in and his eyes roved about the room. "They really do get up to some kinky shit here, don't they?" Setting his whiskey glass on the bedside table, John reached up and pulled a riding crop off the wall. "What do you suppose you do with this?"

Frank licked his lips. He'd wondered just that when he'd first seen it, but it now occurred to him. "I suppose you use it to spank your lover."

"Oh," John said with a wicked smile. "If they've been bad?"

"I suppose so...yeah," Frank said, unable to miss the distention in John's trousers. It surely mirrored his own.

"Have you been bad, DI Lampard?"

Frank's breath caught. "No, sir."

"Oh, but I think you have." John tested the crop on his hand, slapping lightly and then with more force. Every slap zinged through Frank's cock like a jolt of electricity. “Why don't you lean over that bed there and we'll see what we can do about your poor behavior?"

Frank found himself moving toward the bed. What sick game was this? But even as his morality passed judgment on their behavior, his libido gave him permission. What was the harm in this, really?

As he leaned over the bed, noticing the fine velvet coverlet even as his rough wool trousers pulled across his ample ass, Frank braced himself for the impact, expecting that John truly meant to punish him. But as the first swat fell, stinging his ass, he gasped in pleasure rather than pain.

"Such a bad detective," John said as he repeatedly laid cracking blows across Frank's backside and thighs. "You need punishment, don't you?"

"Yes," Frank agreed as his cock rubbed into the mattress. "Oh god yes!"

"Take your trousers off," John said suddenly, ceasing the blows.

Frank could barely get his pants down fast enough. Yes. Oh god yes on his bare ass. As he turned to glance back at John, he saw his lover with his trousers around his ankles, stroking his long, thick cock. A moment of understanding passed between them. Yes, it was wicked of them, but this was only the beginning.

He laid himself back across the bed, crushing the velvet in his sweaty palms as John laid the first blow. 

He cried out at the shock, the intensity of it all, but it was so good. He snaked a hand down to find his cock, wrapping a hand around it as John continued to strike, but the blows missed their mark on a few occasions as they both jerked on their cocks, desperate for the exquisite completion which overtook their beings.

John collapsed next to Frank, their breathing twinned and ragged.

"That was hot."

Frank looked up, startled out of his post-orgazmic haze. In the darkness, he was just able to make out a female figure lounging on a chaise in the corner. The woman stood, and Frank realized it was the club's owner, Lola.

"I don't suppose you boys would be interested in a membership to the club? "

 

Chapter 105

Danny pulled Cesc into his arms the moment he entered the office. Cesc sagged into him. “Oh Danny.”

Danny hugged him tightly. “I got enough on my mind without you getting into silly traffic accidents!”

Cesc pulled back and looked Danny in the eye. “It wasn’t just an accident.”

“What happened?”

Cesc told him of being pulled from the car and the threat the man had made.

“Oh God, oh Cesc,” Danny dragged him close again and held him tightly. “Oh Cesc, I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to get in the middle of this!”

“Danny, everything you do is a part of me,” Cesc said. “And I love you, but are you sure going after Lord Beckham is the right thing to do?”

Danny stilled. “He tried to kill my brother.”

“I know,” Cesc said. “But this time it was just an accident, no one was seriously hurt. But what if Nicola is with us next time?”

Danny paled. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Or you.”

“I know you don’t want that, but it could happen. What can be done now? It’s over. Lord Beckham knows we know, your brother is fine.”

“I can’t just let it go!” Danny insisted, but then he looked into Cesc’s troubled brown eyes.

“All I want in this world is to be with you and our daughter,” Cesc pleaded. “Nothing else matters.”

Danny nodded. “Alright.”

* * * *

Fabio sat on a sofa in Lord Beckham’s study, waiting for the older man to return. They’d met up at the card club that most MP’s frequented, and Fabio had suggested they return to Lord Beckham’s house.

There was trepidation in Fabio’s heart as he waiting, sipping the whiskey in his hand. He didn’t want to sleep with Lord Beckham, not really. However his former lover seemed to have no interest in talking about anything much tonight.

“So,” Lord Beckham said as he returned. “I just want you to know I was speaking with the Prime Minister earlier and he assures me that now that the whole mess about the club has passed over you’ll be getting your appointment to the League of Nations.”

“Wonderful,” Fabio said, genuinely pleased.

“He’ll probably wait until the first of the year,” Lord Beckham continued as he poured himself a drink and moved to the sofa with Fabio. “So you,” he kissed Fabio on the cheek, “should take Raul somewhere nice for the holidays and forget all about London.”

Fabio raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“Fabio,” Lord Beckham said as he trailed a hand down Fabio’s arm, “I know why you’re here, and well, I’m flatter to think you all suppose I have something to do with international assassination attempts.”

Fabio nearly choked on his whiskey.

“However, you boys are getting into things that you really, really ought to stay clear of. Am I making myself clear?”

Fabio looked into Lord Beckahm’s eyes, and saw a hardness there that he’d never noticed before.

“Take my appointment and shut up?”

Lord Beckham chuckled. “You always were a smart lad, Fabio.”

* * * * 

“Chis-mas, Et-e-ban!” Jon begged as he pulled on Esteban’s hand, trying to get the man to come play with him.

“You have to come”! Xabi echoed. 

“But the whole family will be there!” Esteban said. “I don’t want to intrude!”

“You are family,” Xabi said dismissively as Esteban let himself be dragged over to the pile of wooden blocks.

“Well,” Esteban blushed a little as he settled on the floor with the boy. Jon began making a shaky tower, which Esteban helped him straighten.

“Besides. I need to give you your gift.”

Esteban looked over, puzzlement on his face, but Xabi was grinning broadly. In that moment, he realized that Xabi was going to propose to him. On Christmas.

A wide smile covered his face. “I suppose I should come then.”

“YAY!” Jon cheered, more for the tower than his words, but Esteban pulled the boy into a crushing hug, anyway, knocking over the tower.

Xabi watched them with a tear in his eye. Yes. This was the family he wanted.


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years later

Epilogue

“NICKY IS MINE!” a chubby toddler whined as his older sister stood on a chair, holding an old rag doll aloft.

“No, it’s mine!” Nicola replied.

“Children,” Cesc tried wearily as he jiggled a six month old baby on his knee as she stared, fascinated at the spectacle.

“MINE!”

“Nicola Anne! Give that to your brother and get off that chair at once!” Hope barked as she entered the room, and was immediately obeyed.

Nicola scrambled down. “It’s mine, Mummy!”

“It is not, you gave it to Timothy. Now it’s his.”

“Mine,” the little boy agreed as he clutched the doll and ran to his mother’s skirts.

Hope stroked the top of his head, smoothing the riot of brown curls. “Is your big sister being trouble again?”

Timothy nodded, thumb stuck in his mouth. Hope reached down and picked him up, even but even as she consoled him, she went to sit with Nicola.

“You two need to get along or I’m going to tell Uncle Sergio that Nora and Leo can’t stay with us for Christmas.”

“No!” Nicola protested. “Mummy! You promised!!”

“I did, but I told you that if you and Timothy couldn’t stop fighting...”

“We’ll be good, won’t we, Timothy?” Nicola said quickly.

Timothy nodded. Even as his sister bullied him, he would follow her to the ends of the earth.

“And Lola. We’ll look after Lola, too,” Nicola said as she turned to Cesc and the baby who giggled at the sound of her name.

“Alright, but you have to keep your promises,” Hope said as she shared a smiled with Cesc.

Cesc beamed back as he kissed the top of Baby Lola’s head. 

Hope’s heart was full as she held her children and shared this moment with Cesc. Cesc who had saved her life a year ago when a sudden illness had taken Lola from her, and Hope thought she had nothing left to live for. Newly pregnant with their third child, Hope fell into a depression. Lola had been the center of her world, and Hope had no idea how to go on without her. And Cesc had brought her back.

“Your children just lost Lola, same as you. Don’t take yourself from them too.”

The door opened and Danny emerged. Timothy wiggled away from Hope and rushed over to him.

“Good morning, little man,” Danny said as he scooped him up. 

“Danny,” Timothy said and the thumb returned to his mouth and he laid his head on Danny’s shoulder.

Nicola frowned and crawled into Hope’s now vacant lap.

Thankfully, there was a parent for everyone.

“Does Father need us?” Cesc asked.

“No,” Danny said. “He and Guti haven’t even been down to breakfast. I don’t think anyone’s meant to arrive before luncheon.”

“Iker thought he and Cris might catch the early train,” Cesc said.

“With those four little ones to herd?” Hope asked, knowing it took her at least an hour to get out of the house, even if she wasn’t bringing the children with her!

“Iker has them amazingly well organized,” Cesc said. “But I know what you mean.”

“Iker and Cris’s four, Nora and Leo, and Jon, heavens, we’ll have a houseful for Christmas,” Danny shook his head as he and Timothy sat with Hope and Nicola.

“This is why Father needs to not sell Bernabeu Hall!” Cesc insisted.

He got no arguments from the room. It was true that there had been discussions of selling the Hall. Xabi and Esteban lived in Oxford where Esteban still taught, and while Xabi was heir and stood to inherit, he had no real desire to be lord of the manor. He was perfectly happy writing and raising his son.

Iker and Cristiano were now permanently based in London where Cristiano was now a member of parliament. Sergio and Fernando also had a house on Hyde Park where Sergio looked after the kids and Fernando was now vice president at a bank.

Even Cesc, the most adamant that Bernabeu needed to stay in the family, had his small medical practice in the city and Danny had to be near the embassy. Hope also wanted to stay in London near her brother Carlos who had married Steve, a doctor he spent three years chasing. 

No one much used the hall except for gatherings like these, and it was expensive to maintain. Now that Raul and Guti were looking to retire to some place smaller, they had no need of the house.

“It’s just our home,” Cesc argued time and again.

* * * *

“NICOLA!”

“NORA!”  
The cousins crashed together in an embrace and ran for the stairs, leaving a wake of bemused parents.

“At what point do we start talking with them about behaving like little ladies?” Fernando wondered as Leo clutched the back of his leg. He was only just two and wasn’t quite sure about these loud family gatherings yet, despite the fact he lived with Nora.

“Their role model is Hope,” Cesc pointed out helpfully, and got himself a swat.

Sergio had already taken the baby out of Hope’s arms, and was cuddling little Lola. “And how is Uncle Sese’s big girl?”

The happy child giggled with glee as he tickled her under the chin.

“I never get a look in on my own grand kids,” Raul complained. Leo was eyeing him carefully and Raul crouched down. “Hello there, Leo.”

“Hi,” Leo said, gripping Fernando’s leg tighter.

“Don’t you want to say hello to Grandpa Raul?”

Guti frowned. “Enough with the “Grandpa Raul” crap. This hot young man is marrying me New Year’s Eve. I am simply not old enough to be marrying someone’s grandfather.”

“Papaw!” Leo said, confused.

“That works,” Raul grinned as the little boy let himself be lifted.

“What happened to Timothy?” Danny asked, looking around as Carles and Bojan collected coats.

“I believe the young master is hiding?” Bojan said, looking significantly down at Hope’s skirts which rustled.

“I think he’s lost!” Cesc exclaimed. “Oh, whatever will we do?”

“I think I shall never recover if we can’t find him!” Hope cried.

“Mummy!” Timothy said, his face appearing, looking concerned. “I here!”

“Oh thank HEAVENS!” Hope exclaimed and scooped him up, tickling him. The little boy squealed with delight.

“We’ve just finished luncheon, but I’m sure Andy can send something up if you two are hungry?” Raul said, happy with little Leo in his arms.

“We stopped at a pub,” Sergio admitted. “Nora wanted fish and chips.”

Bojan bit his lip and Cesc whispered. “Please never tell Andy that Nora wanted fish and chips instead of his lunch?”

“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Bojan replied.

Andy sent up tea and cakes anyway and the family settled in the sitting room to chat and catch up. An hour later, Sergio bravely took on the task of putting the little ones down for their nap as Lola fell asleep on his shoulder.

“If you can get Nora and Nicola to fall asleep in the same room, it will be a miracle,” Hope said as she kissed Timothy.

“I stay, Mummy!” Timothy complained.

“Go with Uncle Sergio. Look, Leo is going!”

Leo was stuck now to Sergio’s pants.

It was no wonder the maid was forever scrubbing snot off the trousers of Fernando and Sergio.

Sergio offered Timothy his free hand and with astonishing grace, left the room, dragging Leo.

“Is it wrong I really want to go see how he manages to get up the stairs?” Guti asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Don’t doubt him,” Fernando said. “He gets Nora to sleep every night within ten minutes.”

“Does he drug her?” Cesc asked.

“He might do,” Fernando chuckled. In truth, Sergio was the most patient father. After three years at Oxford, partying, Sergio had managed to graduate, and then without complaint, settled in to raised the two little ones they adopted. The two were siblings, and their parents had been tragically killed in a house fire. Fernando knew the family, and when he offered to take them both, the grandparents had gratefully accepted, not having the means to look after them. They could not have gone to a better home.

 

* * * *

Downstairs, preparations were in full swing for the evening meal. With the rest of the family due in this afternoon, Raul wanted a nice dinner. Oriol had arrived the day before to help, and he and Andy were scurrying about.

“I hate thinking this is our last Christmas here,” Mesut sighed as he polished the silver. “So much of my life has been here!”

“But won’t you be happy to always be in London with Sami?” Juan asked. Sami still drove for the family, occasionally, but had gotten a job reporting for the Times about the worker’s movement, and it kept him busy. Raul still let him live with Mesut in the house in exchange for working occasionally and looking after the house when the family and staff were away.

“Oh, of course,” Mesut agreed. “Sami thinks we should get a flat.”

“And give up your free rent?” Oriol asked as he pulled a steaming tray of potatoes off the stove top. 

“Sami says that the time is right to invest in a property. Fernando can help us get a mortgage, and if we start paying it off now, when we retire, we’ll have a place of our own.”

Juan looks mistrustful. “A mortgage? Do you really want to be in debt?”

“A mortgage isn’t really like a debt,” Mesut explained. “I mean, it is, but it’s the best way to buy property.”

Oriol handed Mesut a tray of canapes. “Can you grate some truffles while you talk?”

“Yes,” Mesut grinned as he carried the tray to the table.

Bojan hustled through. “Lord Bernabeu wants canapes as soon as they’re ready. Iker and Cristiano have arrived and are hungry. Oh, and dinner for the children as soon as you can.”

“How many kids again?” Andy asked as he looked over the platter of ham he’s started.

“Uh...” Bojan said.

“Ten,” Carles said, sticking his head out of the wine cupboard. “And twelve tomorrow when Lord Meireles and Fabio arrive with the twins.”

“Twelve,” Bojan said, starting to sweat.

“Don’t forget the five nannies,” Mesut said as Andy dug for more plates.

“We do need to sell Bernabeu,” Oriol said. “And get something bigger!”

* * * *

“Iker, you have to help me talk Dad and Xabi out of selling Bernabeu,” Cesc pleaded as he sat next to his brother in the drawing room. He was on his third glass of wine.

“Cesc,” Iker sighed. They’d had these discussions before.

“I know, I know,” Cesc whined. “But we need it. Our whole lives are in this house. Can you imagine our children growing up without it?”

Honestly, Iker could not. He’d had the same thought the other night when trying to soothe Raul Luis after a bad dream the little boy’d had. He’d rocked him to sleep with stories about Uncle Cesc and Uncle Sergio playing in the gardens. And how Uncle Xabi would be sat in the library reading a book, and Sergio had tied his shoe laces together...

No- every story he had was of this place. From the horrible night they’d learned of their mother’s death, the years of the war, Sergio coming home to them and his miraculous recovery. Xabi’s return after so many years away. How he’d fallen in love with Cristiano.

“You want to keep it too,” Cesc said, reading Iker’s memories.

“It’s not a matter of want. It’s a matter of Father wanting to retire to the city to be near all of us and having no use for this place any more. And the money for the upkeep is more than we should be spending. Not with so many little ones to care for.”

“You know what?” Esteban asked, joining them. “I’ve heard of some stately homes that are being opened up to the public when the family isn’t using them. They charge an admission to help pay for the upkeep, and then when the family wants to use the house, they close it.”

Cesc’s face lit up. “Could we do that?”

“Have strangers in our home?” Iker asked, unsure.

“If we sell there will be strangers here, anyway,” Cesc said. “And this way it’s still ours and we can still come stay.”

“Xabi won’t hear of it,” Esteban admitted. “I suggested it to him, but he think’s it’s unseemly.”

Cesc deflated.

Iker put his hand on his knee. “I know how much it means to you Cesc. But maybe it’s time to let go.”

* * * *

“What is this?” Carles asked as Jordi carried a massive package into the dining room where the wedding gifts had piled up.

“From Barcelona,” Jordi laughed as he slid it into an empty corner. “It says there’s more than just the wedding gift inside- can we open it?”

“Yes,” Carles agreed indulgently. They were desperately trying to get the house ready for the wedding tomorrow, but having all the staff back together this holiday had made Carles sentimental.

Jordi pulled off the brown paper wrapper and found dozens of smaller packaged inside. There was the wedding gift as well as Christmas gifts for all the children and a box for Jordi. He grabbed it eagerly.

“Go. Open it in the kitchen,” Carles waved him away as he set the wedding gift with the others and gathered up the gifts for the children.

Gerard wandered in and kissed the back of Carles’s neck.

“Gerard!” Carles hissed and swatted him away.

“Anything for me?” Gerard asked as he peered at the packages. 

“No,” Carles tried to glare, but Gerard was grinning at him.

“You sure?” Gerard glanced at Carles’s crotch. The two of them had been carrying on an affair for years, now. While Carles would deny it with his dying breath, the whole house knew it was going on, and Raul had even tried to encourage Carles to come out in the open about it, but Carles insisted there was nothing to tell.

Gerard had been hurt at first, but then he realized that to love Carles was to love the fact that he was 100% dedicated to his job. 

“Take these gifts to the nursery!” Carles barked affectionately. 

* * * *

“Box from Madrid!” Jordi laughed as he brought it to the kitchen.

“Did your mum send more oranges?” Juan said, sticking his nose in the box.

“Maybe,” Jordi said and hovered protectively over his booty.

Juan gave him a pout but backed up half a pace. 

Oriol and Andy were drying their hands and coming over to see as well. “Xavi’s in the pantry. Xavi!” Andy called.

Xavi appeared. “Box!”

“From Barcelona,” Jordi said as he dug in. The first thing he came up with was an orange which he handed to Juan.

“Oooh!” Juan grabbed it with a laugh. He sat on the bench.

“Save me the peel!” Oriol commanded as Juan began to unwrap it. Juan scooted over to give him a space, and Oriol joined him, awaiting a slice of the juicy treat. He had a recipe to make a tart from the peel that was to die for.

Jordi found a letter from his mum which he sat aside for later. Carefully wrapped in cloth, he discovered a photograph.

“Oh!” Jordi exclaimed as he saw it was a family photo of Silva and Villa and their two little ones. A four year old boy was perched on Villa’s knee and a one year old girl cuddled in Silva’s lap.

“Your half siblings?” Xavi asked as he too gazed at the happy family.

“Yes,” Jordi said with a smile. “My mum has her own flat, but Silva and Villa invite her over all the time so she can be a part of their lives.”

“When will you get to meet them?” Andy asked.

Jordi shrugged, and Xavi saw his pain. He missed his mother and Barcelona so much. He and Jordi had talked a couple of times about moving to Barcelona, but they didn’t know if they’d have work. Jordi refused to live off of the charity of Silva any more, and knew they couldn’t give up these good jobs they had. Never mind the fare to get them to Barcelona.

But Xavi had a secret stash of money he’d been keeping back. Even if they could just get a couple months off to visit, Xavi knew getting to see Barcelona again would mean the world to his beloved. And he had a good idea what Jordi’s mother’s letter would say.

The rest of the spoils were shared, and Jordi took a box of candies and his letter to the room he shared with Xavi for a ten minute break. Opening it carefully, he caught the pressed flower that fell out, setting it on a plate with the dozens of others. 

“Dearest Jordi,  
Happy Christmas to you and Xavi. Give him a kiss for me. I write you with happy news. I have written letters to Lord Cristiano and Lord Iker, and they have agreed to give you and Xavi the winter off to come and visit me in Barcelona.”

“OH MY GOD!” Jordi yelled.

Xavi’s face appeared. “Good news?”

Jordi immediately knew all. “Oh, you knew! You set this up!!!!”

Xavi shrugged as he fingered the ring in his pocket. “Perhaps I may have helped.”

“But how can we afford it? Xavi! You know I won’t let her pay!”

“We can afford it,” Xavi said as he lifted the plate of flowers and revealed a stash of notes. 

Tears poured down Jordi’s cheeks. “I love you!”

“I love you too,” Xavi said as he pulled him close.

* * * *

Raul’s twin boys, now eight, thundered into the nursery, causing a whole commotion that caused Iker’s nanny to cross herself. She was well aware of the hell Cristiano’s nephews could raise. Raul Luis jumped up to join them, and there was chaos. Nora and Nicki started to yell, Lola burst into tears, and Timothy crawled under the sofa.

Fabio stuck his head in. “You two behave yourselves.”

“YES PAPA.”

Cristiano, who’d been playing blocks with his middle two girls, stood. “Prime Minister?”

Fabio blushed. “Nothing will be voted on until January.”

“The deal is done,” Cristiano said as he tugged a pig tail and got a “DADDY” out of the smaller girl.

Fabio shrugged, but he knew Cristiano was correct. Fabio had hitched his wagon to Lord Beckham back when he’d had the chance to turn the elder lord in for attempting to assassinate the King of Denmark, and it had done wonders for his career. While Fabio knew he owed it all to the clever man, he didn’t trust him at all.

“Sorry we’re late,” Fabio said. They had meant to join the family at Christmas, but Raul had gotten ill, and they’d spent the holiday at home. They were just only in time for the wedding that evening.

“No worries,” Cristiano assured his brother. “We’re happy you’re here now, Prime Minister.”

“Stop that!” Fabio laughed as he shoved his older brother on the shoulder. 

They arrived in the drawing room where his husband, Raul, was greeting the family. There was a buzz of chatter as Fabio arrived and hugs all around.

“You two look relaxed for your wedding day,” Fabio commented as he hugged his uncle and glanced at Guti.

“A mere formality,” Guti shrugged, but there was a glow of happiness in his eyes that could not be mistaken.

“Mr. Howard has arrived, Lord,” Carles announced, and Hope jumped up from her seat.

Cesc followed her, asking Danny. “Is your brother arriving soon?”

“He should be here already,” Danny said as he looked at the clock. His brother took the royal right of arriving when and where he so desired quite seriously.

They stepped outside into the chilly but clear day and discovered the cause of the hold up. Tim and Nicklas had run into each other in the drive and we obviously plotting.

“Daddy!” Hope said, interrupting the tete-a-tete with no regard to the king at all. She threw herself at her father who caught her in a warm embrace.

“How is my little girl?”

“Wonderful!” 

Tim closed his eyes as he held her close. He’d nearly lost her last year with her depression taking her down, but they had her back and happy as he’d ever seen her. And he had this family to thank.

“I love this house,” Tim commented as he took Hope’s arm and led them into the house.

“They’re selling it,” Hope said with a sad look. 

“Why?” Tim asked.

“Money. I mean, they have enough and all, but Raul and Guti want to be in London and think they don’t need two houses which is smart and all, but I hate for it to go.”

Tim nodded as a plan occurred to him.

They immediately went upstairs to see the grandchildren as Danny led his brother in. “Did Hope say this place was for sale? I’ll buy it.”

“You can’t,” Danny said.

“Why not?” Nicklas said. He never liked to be told he couldn’t do anything.

“You need to spend your money in Denmark. It looks bad if you’re buying up homes in other countries.”

“Hmph,” Nicklas said, and then was distracted by something else.

Cesc frowned at Danny. “Why can’t he buy it?” Cesc whispered. “That would solve everything!”

“You really want to see what my brother would do to this place if he bought it?”

Cesc’s shoulders slumped. “Probably not.”

Danny kissed his cheek. “Come on, we probably need to start getting dressed for the wedding.”

* * * *

Tim found Raul on his own as the Lord was in his office just before the ceremony. “Do you have a moment, Lord Bernabeu.”

“Sure,” Raul said with a smile. He’d come to like the American over the past few years. He was a fair man and a doting father. Between the two of them, they were likely to spoil Hope, Cesc, and Danny’s brood rotten.

“I hear you are thinking of selling.”

Raul raised an eyebrow. “We’re discussing it, yes. The boys have their lives in other places, and Guti and I want to retire to the city so we can see our grandchildren.”

Tim nodded. “If you do decide to sell, might I make an offer for it?”

“You?” Raul asked, surprised.

“Yes,” Tim said. “Hope loves it here. It reminds her of Lola to be honest, and I want her to have that, always.”

Raul smiled. “I can understand that.”

“And I want my grandchildren to inherit it. If I do buy, I’d leave it to Hope exclusively in my will, with the understanding that it passed to Nicola, Timothy, and Lola on her passing.”

“I would love for that to happen,” Raul said sincerely. “I’ve not let on to the boys because I don’t want them to worry, but we can’t afford the place any more. Not and keep it staffed. I don’t want them to worry about me. Guti and I will be fine, especially with the funds from the sale.”

“Then it’s decided. You set the price. Whatever is fair, and we won’t hassle,” Tim said as he offered his hand to Raul.

“Just like that?” Raul asked in wonder.

“Bernabeu Hall is this family,” Tim said. “And that is worth more than anything.”

Raul smiled. “Thank you for understanding.”

Guti stuck his head in. “Come on. We’ve been waiting for this wedding for too long.”

“Probably,” Raul said as he moved to embrace his beloved. “But when it’s meant to be, it will wait forever.”


End file.
